Alice's Story: From Toddler to Adult
by A Catholic Girl
Summary: Alice Pomona Longbottom, daughter of Neville and Hannah, tells us of her life, from birth to the stage of motherhood. Includes heartbreaks, loss, death...and life. Sequel to the True Series.
1. Prologue

_A/N: I recently rewrote this prologue and what is below is the second version. This story tells the life of my OC, Alice Pomona Longbottom, Neville and Hannah's daughter. She is introduced in three of my stories that began with 'True'. Please read those before reading this - they're not the best either, but what was really important was the fixing up of this chapter. Enjoy!_

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Prologue: Hello, I Am Alice

Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom were good friends while attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry together. Not only had they'd been born a day apart, their life stories were quite similar to the other's – both of their parents were part of the original Order of the Phoenix. During the first war against Lord Voldemort, Harry's parents were killed; Neville's were tortured into insanity, spending the next twenty years at St. Mungo's Hospital, until his mother finally died of natural causes two days before I was born. Neville's father followed six months afterwards, his death also caused naturally.

Neville Longbottom is my father. I, Alice Pomona Longbottom, am the first child of he and Hannah Abbott. My grandmother, also an Alice, was my namesake. My middle name came from the Hogwarts Herbology teacher that had taught Dad so much, Pomona Sprout.

One week before my own birth was the birth of Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley's first son, James Sirius Potter, named after Harry's father and godfather, who had been killed by his own cousin in the second war against Lord Voldemort. Harry and Dad, still close friends, often set up play dates between James and I, these play dates starting when we were barely four months old.

Because of James, I grew to be a tomboy of some sort. For a birthday or holiday, I refused to wear the dress robes Mum fought to clothe me in, but happily slipped into overalls and bright red trainers. I was bored playing with the enchanted dollhouse (in which the dolls that came along with the house were charmed to walk around and make occasional gestures) that my great-aunt had gotten me for my seventh birthday. Instead, I was perfectly content making mud pies in the alleyway behind my house with James.

Both my family and James's lived in Godric's Hollow, the place where Lord Voldemort himself murdered James and Lily Potter, James Sirius's grandparents. The Potters lived in a cottage right across the road from the memorial site for Lily and James Sr. We, the Longbottoms, lived two houses down from them. But, when James and I were seven, my mum was offered a job as the Leaky Cauldron landlady in London. We would live in a flat above the pub, basically running the entire building.

Mum accepted the job, only I cried and pleaded with her not to. I didn't wish to leave Godric's Hollow, where I had spent my childhood with James, his siblings, and mine. But Mum and Dad did not give into my pity act. Twelve days after my eighth birthday, we – my parents, my siblings, Frank and Eleanor, and I – moved out of our cozy cottage to a cramped, rather putrid apartment over a grimy and dank pub. Although I didn't dare catch myself admitting I liked residing in London, I soon got used to the new surroundings and didn't hate it quite as much as before.

Since I was nine years of age, my father had been the Herbology professor at Hogwarts, succeeding the woman who I had gotten my middle name from, Pomona Sprout. Dad spent the school year living at Hogwarts, although we exchanged long, hearty letters as frequently as we could. My father returned home for Christmas and Easter holidays, also coming for summer break. He and I had a so-so relationship as I grew older – close, but not too close. Our move to London barely affected him.

The Potters transported themselves to London for New Year's Day every year, if they could. I enjoyed these visits, seeing them as an opportunity to reconnect with James, but over the years, it only seemed as if we were drifting further and further apart. We no longer corresponded to each as often as we had the first few months we lived in London, and it felt uncomfortable speaking with him. I was sure our friendship had gone down the drain, until the summer of our eleventh birthdays came around…

James and I, being August babies, received our school acceptance letters in mid July. We had not informed each other of being offered a spot at Hogwarts, but we both assumed the other had gotten a letter, with James and I coming from magical families. About a week before climbing aboard the Hogwarts Express, my father and I stepped out the back door of the Leaky Cauldron together and into Diagon Alley. I had purchased my wand the week before – Diagon Alley being our backyard – but we were going into the village to join the Potters in buying school supplies.

We were hurried to Madam Malkin's for robe fittings, and then were taken to Eeylops Owl Emporium and Flourish & Blotts. We stopped at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor for sundaes after about two hours of shopping. While Dad and James's parents chatted with each other, James and I conversed rather tentatively. Soon, we were rousing about the Hogwarts Houses, the teachers, etc. Our friendship had rekindled, and we were as close as we been as little children.

We rode on the Hogwarts Express together when traveling to Hogwarts for the first time.

Within our first week of school, we met a new friend, Matthew Wood, the son of Katie Bell and Oliver Wood, former Gryffindor students who knew our own parents. After slight uneasiness, we three somehow became inseparable, the best of friends even before Halloween rolled around.

Our first year zoomed by speedily and without many troubles. There were the ever-popular stares at James, just because of what his last name was, and the occasional glances at me, because of my last name – Longbottom was significant in both the Wars against Voldemort and around the school, Dad being one of the teachers. But despite the attention we received, we were eager to continue our Hogwarts educations next year.

Second year brought James's brother, Albus, to Hogwarts, as well as Colette Finnigan, daughter of some of my father's old schoolmates. I first met Colette in a Hogwarts Express compartment, when James, Matt, and I barged into the section she was sitting in by herself. To be polite, we had stayed there for the journey, making small chit-chit with Colette. None of the boys noticed, but I could see that Colette took a quick liking to James; just by the way she looked at him with an idolizing glance.

I also saw that she despised me, by looking deep into her eyes. Colette truly liked James – whether it was just for his family history or him, I was unsure of. I was the only girl in school unrelated to James who he spent much time with – he had many female cousins at Hogwarts at the time, as well as a younger sister in the later years. I knew Colette would do anything to be in my position.

But, yet, I never said a word. Because of this, my fifth school year and Colette's fourth were spent wordlessly competing against each other for James – she wanted him in a romantic way, I just in a brotherly way. We were defeated out at the end of the year, James having found a girlfriend in a roommate of mine. Colette never acted the same way again, while I tried to adapt to not being the one James spent free time with nowadays.

The rest of my Hogwarts life was mostly filled with the friendship James and I shared slowly fading once more. When he started going out with this girl, things grew awkward between us. As if my family's move to London was reoccurring, we spoke fewer and fewer times with each other. By my seventh year graduation, I had officially not spoken to James more than once since mid sixth year.

But yet once I left Hogwarts, it seemed as if my life was coming to a tragic and unexpected collapse. I loved someone one perhaps just for the sake of knowing I had a person to call my own. I was employed at a job that I clandestinely loathed but needed to keep in order to pay a flat rent. I purposely lost contact with my family and friends, curling myself up into a ball and slinking back into a hidden cave.

Although, when I entered the Wizardry adult world, I learned more than I had ever learned at Hogwarts, these new studies consisting of learning about myself, the ones I loved in life, and so much more…

Hello. My name is Alice Pomona Longbottom, and this is my story.

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_A/N: Please review!_


	2. Childhood

**I only own Alice Pomona, Matthew Wood, Frank Neville Longbottom, Eleanor Susan Longbottom, and any other people with unfamiliar names.**

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Chapter One: The Way My Childhood Was Affected

I was born August 16th, 2005, in the maternity ward of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. My parents were young twenty-five-year-olds, merely trying to both find a job and be able to raise their child properly. From the time of when I was a little girl, I had always been fascinated by the tale of how I earned my name. Hermione Weasley, nee Granger, was present when this occurred, and found it bemusing how I always begged her to retell me of it.

My mother, weak and tired from child labor, was practically falling asleep when a Healer asked her for the name of her daughter, having been told to get it for the birth certificate. Mum had groaned when the Healer started bugging her. "Get off, man…" Mum had said in a slurred voice. "…Never annoy a woman after labor…"

As she drifted off to slumber land, Dad didn't even look up from the innocent baby in his arms. I was led to believe that from when I first burped minutes after my birth, Dad became engrossed in me. With a distant look in his eyes, he said to the Healer, "Alice. Her name is Alice Pomona. I know Hannah will be all right with our little girl's name."

And so I became Alice Pomona.

My earliest memory was from my fourth birthday, when James Potter had teasingly dubbed me Al, as my initials were A.L. It was then when I flew to my father in hot tears, thrusting hate upon my name. "Daddy, my name is horrible! It's the kind of name for an old lady who does nothing but knit! Daddy, why do I have to have such an awful name?"

At this point, I didn't know of the sentimental value my name held for my father. My paternal grandparents both having died when I was an infant, I was never told of their names until the next year, their true stories also remaining a mystery until that year. As I did my best to wipe away tears, Dad placed aside the Mandrake he was experimenting with, sat down on his favorite armchair, and pulled me onto his lap. "Alice, I'm sorry you think that way of your name. But have I ever told you about who was also named Alice?"

"No, Daddy."

"Well, remember when I took you to the cemetery awhile ago, to put flowers on two of the tombstones?"

I nodded. "I remember. You acted sad and didn't talk much."

Dad must have felt a guilty ping inside of him when I said that. "Alice, the sadness wasn't an act. I was sad. Those graves belonged to your grandparents – my mother and father."

"Daddy," I said impatiently, "I don't see how that tells me about my name."

I remember my father hesitating then, and I could recall him shaking his head at me. "Alice, dear, let's save this story for another time, all right? Perhaps when you're older…just remember for now that your name is very special, and you'll soon find out why."

And with that, Dad lifted me off of his leg and placed me back on the ground. He rose from his chair and left the room, leaving me alone until Mum bustled in to get me dressed for my birthday party.

Throughout the festivities that day, I couldn't even keep my mind on the party. My mind kept drifting away to my name's true meaning, and why my father refused to tell me the truth.

Little did I know, more than a year later, I'd uncover exactly what I wished to know. The September after my fifth birthday was when a war memorial opened at Hogwarts, consisting of names of lost and terminally injured wizards who fought in both the First and Second Wars against Voldemort. I accompanied my parents to the revealing ceremony, but once we arrived at the school and were out on the grounds where the memorial was, I was soon left out of my parents' mingling with old friends. I thought that they would at least put my little brother Frank and I under the care of a student, so they wouldn't have to worry about us. But no – Mum was lugging Frankie around like a doll, while I was given the option of either wandering around or staying put until my parents decided to take my brother and I home.

Clearly bored with the whole aspect of the event, I roamed over to the marble walls that were the memorial. My mother had been teaching me to read at the time, and I could now properly recognize not only my own name, but my family members' names as well. My eyes eager for information I could absorb, I scanned the walls for a familiar name or two. Two names screamed out to me immediately – Alice Longbottom…Frank Longbottom…

Now, you must remember that I was only a mere five-year-old at the time, and had not been told a thing about my paternal grandparents until then. So, naturally, when I spotted my name and my brother's, I was beyond confusion. Why on earth were our names on the memorial? We hadn't been born during the time of the Wars…I thought of the Muggle faerie tales my mother read to me at bedtime. They had stories of reincarnations and clones in them – perhaps Frankie and I had lived during the Wartime and had been reincarnated or doubled. But no…that was impossible…

I remembered running madly back towards my father, calling out to him at the top of my lungs. "Daddy! Daddy, why is my name on the wall? Frankie's is there too! It just doesn't make sense, Daddy!"

The following that occurred was when my whole childhood drastically changed. My father had paused with a stiff look in his eyes, but then put down his plate of cakes and cookies to take my hand in his. Silently, he led me away from the crowd over to a deserted spot by the lake. He sat me down…looked me square in the eye…and explained everything as simply and gently as he could. I was told of the original Order of the Phoenix, and how well known and brave my grandparents were – the grandparents named Alice and Frank.

Dad talked about the Prophecy, and how he could have been the Boy Who Lived. Before I knew it, he reached the end of his tale – which concluded with the torturing of my grandparents.

I don't exactly recall that had happened after that. But many years later, when I was a curious and rather nosy ten-year-old, I asked my father of what I had done after he finished telling me everything. He said in a soft, choking voice, "Well, at first, you looked…like you were about to cry, and I was worried that I made a mistake of telling you about…all that happened. But then, you just hugged me and said, 'don't worry, Daddy. I think Grandpa and Grandma Longbottom were the bravest people in the world.'"

Soon after the memorial ceremony, my father bestowed upon me a photograph of my grandparents at their wedding. The times I stared at this photo were uncountable. Every time I took it out from my night table drawer, I found something new to fantasize over. There was Grandpa Frank's round, but careworn face, and his enchanting smile. His hair laid parted to the left, threads of silver detectable in the dominant chestnut brown color. His arm was wrapped around Grandma Alice, whose youthful face outshone everyone in the photo. Her light brown hair was cut shorter than any of the women in her bridal party – it ended just above her ears. Dad claimed that Grandma was a bit of a tomboy like me, hence her short haircut.

I often traced the outline of my namesake's face at night, when I couldn't sleep. As I grew older, I uncovered more and more about how being told Grandma and Grandpa's true story affected my fleeting childhood. At an early age, I was told of the horrors of war and fighting, and how it hurt and broke apart not only strangers, but also my family. This caused me to feel a little left out later in life among my school peers – the war stories caused me to act more mature at times than my classmates. Very few girls accepted me, leading to me hanging out mostly with James Potter and Matthew Wood. But that is another story, in another time…

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	3. Relocation

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Yes, I am updating for the third time in a row. Don't get used to these everyday updates, because I have finals coming up and I'm going to do my best dedicating myself to those. This chapter is the longest one so far, so hopefully, it'll keep you occupied until I update again.

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Chapter Two: Relocation

As a child, I never assumed that I'd ever leave our precious home of Godric's Hollow. Everything had happened there – the growth of my friendship with James, the annual neighborhood picnics, and my father's infamous incident with a batch of Devil Snare. I had always dreamt of spending my teenage and adult years in the cozy, little Longbottom cottage.

But my parents didn't think the same way. Dad was restless to finally be assured the position of Herbology professor at Hogwarts – he didn't receive the job until Pomona Sprout finally decided to retire when I was nine years old. And Mum was tired of being the common housewife. She had given birth to three children – Frank Neville, Eleanor Susan, and I. Mum now felt that she had done her job in providing herself and Dad with human joys, and longed for a job outside of the house.

It was on October 15th, 2012, when Tom Boggs, landlord and bartender of The Leaky Cauldron, passed away of old age. The entire Wizardry world fell into deep mourning, each wizard having encountered Tom at least once in his or her lifetime. I recall snooping on my parents a few nights after Tom's death, hiding behind the door to the den while Mum and Dad talked in there with hushed voices.

"It's like fate, Neville!" Mum had squealed to Dad. "They're taking applications for the position of landlord…or landlady, in my case!" I could hear her light, girlish laugh even through the thick, wooden door. "I can send one in…and…even if I don't get the job, the staff at the pub will hopefully recommend me to another shop in Diagon Alley! It's all I ever wanted, Neville…things will get so much better than they are now." There was a pause, and Mum then continued, "…You are all right with possibly leaving here, are you?"

I heard a wet smack as my father kissed my mother. "If you're happy, I'm more than happy, Hannah. The children will be so excited."

That was the first time in my life when I grew furious at both of my parents. I was far from excited about having the thought of moving to London implanted in my brain. At just seven years old, memories were occurring each day – memories that could only be worth treasuring if they took place in Godric's Hollow. From then on, I did everything in my power to avoid my mother's applying to the job of landlady. First, I was daring enough to hide her application form in Dad's greenhouse, underneath some simple pots of daises.

But that idea soon failed. I was helping my father take notes on some plants' growth when he came across the paper while moving his daises to another part of the greenhouse. "Alice!" he blared, the application form clutched in his soil-covered hand. "How do you explain this?"

With a purposely bratty air, I looked up from my observation notebook casually and replied, "Oh, Eleanor must have been playing 'hide-an-item-of-Mummy's'."

Dad turned very red then. He wasn't used to me sassing him off like that, especially at such a young age. "Alice Pomona, don't you ever do something like that again. This is very important to your mummy…" He seemed at lost for words, as if punishing his little girl was too much for him. "…And she'll be very angry with you if you misplaced it." My father's poor 'punishment' was quickly forgotten when he threw me a scowling look before leaving the greenhouse to return the application form to my mother.

That night, Mum hurriedly filled out the form at the kitchen table, while drinking her nightly cup of tea. Dad had told her all about how I'd tried to hide it, leading to Mum giving me a talk right before I fell asleep.

She had knocked gently and motherly on my bedroom door. I called out to her that the door was unlocked, and Mum walked in, with an unreadable expression. She sat herself down upon my bed, where I was once again staring at Frank and Alice's wedding photo. Feeling uneasy with the photograph in my hands, I shoved it underneath my pillow as Mum sat down.

"Ally, darling, Daddy told me about how you hid my application form," Mum leaned forward to brush aside some of my loose hairs. We were both blondes, and I had hated it when people used to call me "Hannah's clone". I loathed being compared to her – I was nothing Abbot…despite my looks, I was a Longbottom…it was that simple.

I avoided her eyes. "Yes. I hid it."

Mum had no problem with me keeping no eye contact. "Alice, you're a tad too young to understand how much this job means to me. I've always wanted a job in a popular place like Diagon Alley. And I know you don't want to leave Godric's Hollow, but whining and stealing my application form isn't going to help. You have to learn that we have to do many things we don't always want to do – it's what makes us better people." She smiled warily at me, and kissed my forehead. "All right?"

The cogs already turning in my head, I smiled as innocently as I could. "Yes, Mummy. G'night."

My mother smiled once more, and left the room, closing the door behind her. As I listened to her steps retreating down the hall, I suspected that I'd be paying a visit to James Potter the next day…

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If someone from my grandparents' era time-traveled to our time period, they might mistake James Sirius Potter for James Potter Sr. Not only did my best friend take freakishly after his grandfather when he was James's age, he had also inherited a habit for playing pranks. By our sixth Christmas, he had already swiped the Marauder's Map from his father's office. Harry Potter himself had told us of the story of the Marauders when we were of early age. Mr. Potter was always eager to tell us of his teen experiences, despite that my parents and Mrs. Potter often feared that the stories were too much for youngsters like us.

The day after my father uncovered Mum's form in the greenhouse, I left our house after breakfast, telling my mother that I was going for a walk around the village – Godric's Hollow was small and safe after wartime, and even seven-year-old girls could roam through it unattended.

A short, meaningless walk turned out to be a visit to the Potter household. There was nothing to dislike about visiting that family and their home. Their house's structure was very similar to the Longbottoms' – it was merely a tiny, two-story cottage like ours, with the typical green shutters and the front porch bearing wicker furniture. From the outside, the house appeared normal, but once you stepped inside, chaos would erupt.

When James and I were around five, all you saw after coming into the house were James and his little brother Albus speeding by on toy broomsticks. This welcoming ritual very often reoccurred for another three years. Then there'd be the baby of the family, Lily, running to you, begging you to play 'Barbie dolls' with her. Lily adored those Muggle products – Ginny Potter finally took them away from her when her daughter was six, believing that the plastic, immobile women would affect Lily's self-consciousness in her adolescent life.

When I visited the Potter household that particular day, I entered without knocking as usual – I was such a regular at that house that I didn't even need to signal my arrival. Inside, I was immediately curious and thrown off by the unusual quietness. A sudden creak upstairs caused me to jump. James's face, looking rather pale, then appeared at the top of the staircase.

I smiled brightly at him. "Hello, James!"

Frowning at me, he placed a finger in front of his lips, shushing me. Peering behind him one last time, he trampled down the stairs as quietly but as rapidly as he could. When he approached me, he almost looked as if he was about to cry. "Dad found out that I have the Marauder's Map."

My shoulders slumped without thought. Our carefree, childish world would not be the same without the Map. The number of hours we had spent hiding in Dad's greenhouse, marveling over the moving dots of the parchment and creating stories about the people the dots signified! "What? I thought you had it in a secret place!"

James blushed. "My closet was secret…until Mum decided to clean it out."

As compared to the relationship we had later at Hogwarts, our childhood friendship was much different. In the timeless days of Godric's Hollow, our friendship first begun due to our parents being close. Over time, when we has mastered the art of talking, I was really the one that kept the friendship together – I was slightly bossy as a child, and wasn't afraid to tell people off. I was the one who at age three screamed at James when he refused to play with a girl. "I can get just as muddy and dirty and pushy as you!" I had declared to him. To back up my words, I had even jumped into a nearby mud puddle after my statement.

James had become hysterical over my actions – he was the only one who grew so, as Mum was furious when I came home in a dirty state, and Dad was cross with me because the mud I jumped into had splattered some of his plants displayed on the front lawn.

"I'm sorry about the Map, James." I said the day of my visit. "But I know what we can do today!" And I sat down on the bottom stair and spilled out everything that had happened in the past few days – my mother applying for a landlady position, me hiding her application, and my father finding it. Finally, I said, "I need you to help me hide Mum's form again – in a place where she won't find it."

James, although a troublemaker, tended to mull over things longer than I did. Considerably, he asked me, "Why don't you want to live in London? That's where all of the fun places are!" He gave me a sheepish grin and added, "Except Hogwarts."

Something inside my seven-year-old body told me to not tell James of the true reason why I didn't want to go – I really wanted to stay in Godric's Hollow because of the Potter family, which mostly referred to James. But I knew that children our age still thought that the opposite sex contained cooties – I never thought this because of my constant time spent with the Potter boys. But James had already shown signs of believing in this – he still played with me at ease, but we didn't wrestle boyishly anymore, like we had when we were younger. So, wanting to hide the truth, I replied, "London has too many places. I like it here because it's so quiet and empty."

James shrugged. "Okay then. I guess I'll help you, now that Dad has the Map back. You mum didn't send in the form yet?"

"No. She plans to send it in later this afternoon though, so we'd better try to hide it now."

And so James and I rose from the steps, and he called out to his mother, who was gardening in the backyard, that he was going with me to our house. We practically ran down the paved road, entering my front foyer in a sooty and breathless state. When we arrived at my home, we learned that my mother had gone shopping for groceries, taking Eleanor with her. Dad and Frankie were out working in the greenhouse, as usual. Delighted that the house was empty, I led James into the kitchen, where the envelope consisting of Mum's application form laid on the table. It was already addressed, and had a stamp pasted in the corner.

The staff at the Leaky Cauldron had stated to all applicants that they must drop their forms off at their local Wizardry post office, where the forms would travel by owl to London. I was completely aware that this afternoon was the deadline for forms, which made hiding it today even more brilliant.

For a few minutes, we just sat staring at the envelope – I was waiting for James to come up with a genius idea, and he was waiting for the idea to strike him. Finally, he spoke, "Let's burn it."

My eyes practically bulged out of my head. "_Burn_ it?"

"Sure. Your fireplace has logs in it now, doesn't it? All we have to do is find some matches, start a fire, and toss the envelope in. And then, you all stay here in Godric's Hollow."

A small part of me doubted this plan, but a more dominant part of me was eager to participate in another original, James Potter plan. "All right!" I handed him the envelope, and sent him into our den, where the fireplace was. I then began rummaging through the kitchen drawers for a box of matches. I succeeded in my search, and skipped into the den, beginning to think that everything was going to be all right with this application form burned.

But we were dumbfounded when it was time to light a match. "Do you know how to light one?" James asked me.

"I…I've seen Mum and Dad do it before…but…" I shoved the match and its box at him. "I'm too scared to do it. Here, all you have to do is run the match against that little strip there."

A line of worry was seen on James's forehead. "Couldn't we just use a wand to make a fire?"

"My parents both have theirs with them!" I retorted. "Just do it!"

James let in to my commands. We were both stunned when a tiny light appeared at one end of the match after he swiped against the strip on the box. "Well…" he glanced at me once more. "Shall we do it?"

I tossed the envelope into the empty fireplace, and peered back at James. "Go on."

Now, before I continue, I must share with you the fact that our family happened to be pet-sitting the Weasleys' dog during that time, and Rollins was a hyperactive and rambunctious collie that didn't understand the meaning of 'no'. Just as James leaned in to ignite Mum's envelope, Rollins came bounding into the den, barking at the top of his lungs…

…And ran right into James, causing my friend to drop the match…

…. Exactly on top of my big toe – which was bare, due to the fact that I was wearing sandals. I howled out in pain, and the waterworks quickly arrived. James began yelling out his apologies frantically, while at the same time scolding Rollins. My father heard all of the commotion from outside, and he came running in immediately.

Dad was never the type to yell or get angry, and that day was one of the few when he yelled so loudly that he was hoarse the next day. His face turned tomato red when he saw my burnt toe, James's panicking face, and most importantly, the envelope in the fireplace. "Oy! What happened here?" He didn't wait for an explanation. Instead, he continued, "Alice, what did I say about hiding your mother's application form?" He hurried over to the fireplace to scoop up the envelope, and then turned to face me again. "And you got James involved too! What a inconsiderate thing to do, Alice!" Suddenly remembering that an outsider was in our home, he politely said to James, "Listen here, son, you go home now. I don't blame you for all this – Alice is the one to blame. Alice…?" He shot me one of his infamous looks.

I silently looked down at my feet. "I'm sorry for getting you involved, James."

Bewildered, James nodded with wide eyes, a sign that he accepted my apology. He left the house more quickly than he ever did before. Once the door slammed after his departure, Dad looked down at me, and quietly took my hand, leading me to the kitchen to apply ice and bandages on my toe. "Alice, you're not a little girl anymore," he told me as he wrapped my toe in cloth. "You're old enough to get through situations that you're not pleased about. I'm very disappointed in you."

Seeing my father angry at me was rare, and tears rolled down my cheeks – mostly because my toe still inflicted pain on me, but also because I was afraid my father didn't love me anymore. "Daddy…do you hate me?"

That did it to him. His bad temper melted, and he once again saw me as his precious firstborn. Dad hugged me then, and replied, "No, sweetie. I could never hate you. Mummy and I will be disappointed or angry with you sometime in the future, but we could never stop loving you or your brother or your sister. You three mean the world to us."

I treasured that moment for the rest of my life. When I looked upon that day in later times, I realized that my father and I had always carried a special bond between us, even when it seemed we were as far away as possible from each other. Mum was a mother to me, and no more than that. But Daddy was a father, friend, teacher, and counselor all in one…

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Mum came home from that market that day in high spirits, which rapidly dissolved when she heard of what occurred when she was out. She chose to not speak of the incident with me, saying that my father had done all the talking necessary. She ran out to the post office to send in her application almost immediately after she stored away all of the food she had just purchased. When Mum returned, she couldn't help but look at me crossly. I'm positive that if I weren't Hannah Longbottom's seven-year-old daughter, Mum would have strangled me that night.

For the next five months, the application form was soon forgotten, having been sent out with nothing more to do but pray that Mum would get rejected. It was in April of 2013 when a letter from the Leaky Cauldron arrived, saying that they were pleased to inform us that Mum had been granted the job of landlady. My parents were ecstatic, perhaps happier than I had ever seen them before. My brother and sister were still young and naïve at the time, and were eager about the idea of living in an entire new environment. I seemed to be the only Longbottom downhearted about this upcoming change.

The following three months consisted of packing our belongings into various trunks, valises, and carry-on bags. At first, I flatly refused to pack away the things of my own, until Mum threatened to take away the photograph of my grandparents. She was rather stressed and cranky during the preparations before moving. Many times during my childhood, I called her a hag behind her back. But Mum was anything but a hag – I was just too blind to see her true, angelic behavior. That must have been the reason why Dad said nothing during the times Mum scolded me in those few months – he was in love with the so-called hag woman, and knew her better than I did.

It was in August when we moved to London, exactly twelve days after my eighth birthday. It was raining like mad the day we were scheduled to leave Godric's Hollow, so instead of taking a Muggle vehicle like planned, we traveled to the Leaky Cauldron via Floo Powder. The pub was deserted when we arrived, as it had been temporarily closed when Tom Boggs died. The place looked more ghastly and spooky than ever.

The rain pattering constantly on the creaky roof, my mother began dusting off all of the tables and the bar countertop, while Dad accompanied Frankie, Eleanor, and I upstairs to our new flat to help us put together our bedrooms – Eleanor and I were to share one. That was a new frontier for me – never had I shared my bedroom with my sister before. And our living quarters! Us five Longbottoms were to live in a cramped, four-room flat on the sixth floor of the building, where no guests' rooms were located. Our kitchen and den were morphed into one room, and my parents' bedroom was minuscule compared to their own back home – yet, it was the largest bedroom. We were told that Frank's bedroom had originally been a broom closet, and the room Eleanor and I were to sleep in was formerly a bathroom.

"Why didn't they keep the bathroom?' I remember questioning my father. "It's one of the most important rooms!" Later that night, our parents announced that we would have to use the bathroom behind the downstairs bar for bathing and using the toilet. As if I wasn't enough horrified, I grew even more disgusted of the Leaky Cauldron.

Before bed that night, I just couldn't take the misery anymore. I escaped from our flat after supper, running downstairs to the main floor. Flinging myself down at a table, I let out all of the tears I had been holding back the whole day, afraid to show my crushed and enraged mood. The emotions just flew out, no longer hesitating to stay inside. I don't remember what happened later that night, but when I woke up the next morning, I was still seated at the table, and there was the quilt that had lain on my bed in Godric's Hollow resting on my back. One of my parents must have understood the pain I was suffering, and knew it would be best not to disturb me.

Little did I suspect, the rest of my childhood would grow more and more lonely as time passed on. It was only during the summer before my first Hogwarts year when things would become better…

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	4. Separation

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Well, here it is! My last final is tomorrow, and then I just have a week full of half-days left. This means lots more updates!

**This chapter was originally going to be together with the next one, but I split them up because it'd take too long to write.**

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Chapter Three: Separation

After the move to London, life grew both better and worse at the same time. Whilst I soon grew used to the dank and dark atmosphere of the Leaky Cauldron and its guests, I was away from my true home of Godric's Hollow, and my true friends, the Potter family. The Potters made a tradition of visiting us every New Year's Day, but it was still only one chance to see them per year.

By our third month of living in London, I was already sorely missing the fresh, clean air of Godric's Hollow as opposed to the smoky air of London. I ached to play along in another prank of James', perhaps one meant to steal the Marauder's Map back from Harry Potter. I even missed Dad nagging me to help him water the plants in our greenhouse. All of our plants had been donated to the Hogwarts greenhouses before we left home, Professor Pomona Sprout delighted to have donations from a former student of hers.

It was on our first Christmas in London when I felt empty inside. Christmas just wasn't…Christmas when we were at the Leaky Cauldron. Christmas at Godric's Hollow was never a dull event. There was always a strong, cinnamon scent coming from our kitchen, Mum loving to bake brightly colored, sweet Christmas cookies. Dad would breed poinsettias for some time before Christmas, in order for them to have gone through full growth by the time December 25th rolled around. Then there would be the caroling events several neighborhood mothers would get all the children involved in, my siblings, the Potter children, and I having participated in one of these when I was six.

Christmas was quieter among our family in London, but certainly not quieter among the Londoners. Several magical folk would come spilling in from Diagon Alley, either in a merry, drunken mood or coming to the pub to get into a merry, drunken mood. Luckily, Mum, also serving as a bartender, would allow only a certain amount of drinks per customer. "I have three children, Bert," I overheard her saying to one customer that winter season. "And they are not going to see any intoxicated wizards in my pub. The world is scary enough, why do they have to see more terror?"

At the time, I had no idea what Mum meant by a scary world. The world was scary when Voldemort was in power, not now, when the Wizardry world was as peaceful as ever…

It was on Christmas Eve, 2013, when I had a memorable flashback of last Christmas, when the Potters came over to our cottage for a holiday feast. James and I had been toasting peanuts in our roaring fireplace until Dad forced us to stop, but that just caused us to venture outdoors to have a snowball fight. How furious the adults had been with us when we came inside sopping wet!

The flashback only made me more eager for New Year's Day. I was counting down the hours, minutes, and seconds until January 1st, 2014. It was on December 31st when my parents gave me the opportunity to attend the New Year's Eve celebrations in Diagon Alley with them. That meant being giving the rare treat of staying up past 8:30 p.m. – my usual bedtime at that age - but I wanted to have a proper good night's sleep before the Potters' visit on New Year's Day. Knowing James, I would be pranking and laughing all day long, and I knew I'd need energy for that.

But as dawn of New Year's Day arrived, I woke with a twisted knot in my stomach. Assuming it was just excited jitters about today, I helped myself to a large, helping breakfast, gobbling it down in one big swipe. By the time we heard a big thud from the fireplace on the main floor, we knew that our guests had arrived (by Floo powder), and it was then when my bacon and eggs were practically leaping in my stomach.

My family and I stumbled down the many staircases, having gone from the sixth floor to the main floor in a matter of minutes. And there were the Potter five, brushing soot off of their robes and rubbing their temples, apparently having bumped their heads upon landing in the pub's fireplace. Mum and Dad brushed past us children to heartily greet Harry and Ginny, while Lily and Eleanor – being a year apart in age – immediately paired off to play 'dress-up' upstairs. As James and Albus silently mounted their toy broomsticks – planning to ride in the cleared off pub area – I bounced over to them, beaming widely.

"Hello, James, Al!" If I were any happier, my face would crack. "Can I join you? I'll get my broom from upstairs!"

Albus Potter rarely spoke to me in our younger days; he was a shy little chap. But the days in Godric's Hollow when James ignored me were scarce – even when we were babies and couldn't talk, we communicated using the common infant gibberish. When James didn't answer me after I asked about the broomstick riding, I repeated myself, "James? Can I ride with you and Albus?"

James had rolled his eyes. "No way! You're just a girl, Alice – girls don't ride brooms." He then turned to Frankie, who was five at the time and had standing by himself in the dark corner, and said, "Frank, do you want to ride with us?"

My brother's entire face lit up. "Yeah, sure!"

As Frankie dashed upstairs to get his toy broom, I stared back at James, with a puzzled and hurt look. Finally, I left the main floor in a run and hurried back upstairs to the flat. Locking myself in the girls' bedroom – telling my mother that my stomachache had gotten worse- I plopped down upon the bed, once again letting out tears. During my absence back home, James had become aware of the 'cooties' girls contained. He had turned into a sexist pig at the age of eight. Did he not know of how his mother had been a famous Quidditch player before giving birth?

I was allowed to stay in my bedroom for the rest of the visit, discovering that I was quite good at faking sick. Ginny Potter poked her head into the room before she left with her family, wishing me a quick recovery. Ginny was a sweet, youthful soul, and her bidding me good tidings almost made me forgive James for acting so rude. I still felt as if I was slapped in the face by his comment, for now, I was no more than a whiny, frilly-dressed girl to him.

I realized that this was what the knot in my stomach was about – it was a signal that today my life would fall apart once again. How was I supposed to know I'd lose my best friend after so long? Throughout the first few months of living in London, James and I had exchanged as many letters as an eight-year-old could pen. But soon, we both had grown busy with the business of our homes, and stopped writing. It was if our friendship never grew – at least, in James's eyes, it was seen that way. That night, I couldn't help but shed yet another batch of tears after the Potters departed – crying was now my way to resolve problems these days…

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The separation from James hit me hard. It was odd replaying the pub scene in my head, when James had called me "just a girl". Sure, he had teased me plenty of times when we were living in Godric's Hollow. But he never insulted me in a way that hurt so much. We were only eight years old, and at that age, nothing but sticks and stones truly hurt. But although I loathed this new separateness with all of my heart, I quickly learned how to keep my mind off of the Potter boy and focus on my new duties at the Leaky Cauldron.

Mum taught me how to man the bar as well as an eight-year-old could, and after almost a year of living in Diagon Alley, my parents granted me permission to roam around it by myself. The shopkeepers soon grew familiar with my name, and would sneak me free merchandise from their stores. Having been given a copy of the revised edition of _Hogwarts, A History_ from Flourish & Blotts, I dove into this heavily, reading it whenever I could, and highlighting the words I found incomprehensible. I would later ask Dad about the words' meanings. On sunny days, I would lug the book to the ice cream parlor, and read it at a table outside the shop, while digging my way through banana splits or fudge sundaes. For most of the spring in which I was eight, I could be seen with my eyes glued to the pages of that beloved book. Visual images of Hogwarts soon appeared in my head – I dreamt of mouthwatering meals in the Great Hall, deep slumbers in the cozy dormitories, and a crystal blue lake being visible from a classroom window.

The more I read, the more I wished to turn eleven years old and attend Hogwarts. Whenever I spoke of this longing to my parents, their faces turned dark and grim. I realized many years later that when I talked to them about their old school, the only memories that flew back to them were the events of their fourth year and beyond, when numerous deaths started to occur, and the Wizardry world entered wartime. But I never let their past at Hogwarts affect my future there. Voldemort had been dead for nearly twenty years, and our world was at peace with each other. No other magical villain would be as threatening as Voldemort, not one.

Although more affected by this war – having entered his true manhood because of it – my father apparently wasn't afraid or delicate when recalling the memories. Mum would become frail and usually cry upon thinking of the War, as she lost her mother during it – if she couldn't hold back the tears, though, Mum was sure to go into a vacant and deserted room, away from us children. But Dad was different. He was eager to return to the school, to say that he witnessed Hogwarts before, during, and after Voldemort's rise of power. When he received the news of Pomona Sprout's retirement after nearly fifty years of teaching Herbology, Dad knew that it was his time to see the post-War Hogwarts.

He had been in line for the position ever since graduating school, and had impatiently waited two decades for the time of his teaching. During this duration of waiting, Dad had written and self-published two books – his autobiography, and the other, a how-to guide on raising proper magical plants. In both books, he mentioned how he was eagerly awaiting the teaching position of Herbology. Mum laughed at his obsession with the teaching post, but I understood his love of the subject. I was the one who assisted him in the caring of his plants back in Godric's Hollow, and I had seen his loving and determined eyes upon watering the leaves or observing their growth. I knew how much he wanted this.

…And yet, it never applied to me the fact of him possibly relocating to Hogwarts to teach. I was all smiles when he received a letter of acceptance from the Hogwarts staff. I had assumed it would mean our family would merely uproot themselves once again and live at Hogwarts. I was bubbling with eagerness upon thinking of this new possibility, wanting to be at Hogwarts more than anything. Neither of my parents knew that I thought this until about two weeks before my ninth birthday, and when my father would leave for the castle. I questioned at dinner one night, "So, when do we start packing for Hogwarts?"

Dad nearly choked on his shepherd's pie. "Excuse me?"

"You're going to be the Herbology teacher, Daddy. Aren't we moving to Hogwarts so you can teach there?" I spoke with a superior and knowing tone, acting older than my age.

My parents exchanged glances, and turned back to me with uneasy faces. Dad cleared his throat. "Frankie, Eleanor, why don't you two go downstairs and see if Mr. Gordon has arrived for his nightly drink, eh?"

My siblings had been playing with my Quidditch player action figures underneath the table, and had barely noticed when Dad asked them to leave. Finally, Mum rose from her seat and guided them downstairs herself, staying there with them. Dad then went into his lecture mode. "Alice, wherever did you get the idea that we'd all move to Hogwarts?"

I guiltily swallowed the food I was chewing. "Well…when Mummy got a new job, we all had to move here…and now you're getting a job…shouldn't we be moving to the school?"

Dad shook his head. "Ally, you misunderstood. There's no room at Hogwarts for all of us. You're staying here with your mother and Frankie and Eleanor. I thought you knew that."

Recognition flew towards me, and tears emerged in my eyes. "I…I have to stay here?"

My father nodded, and stroked my cheek gently. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I didn't know that you thought this…" He seemed at loss for words. Dad always felt miserable when he had to crush my heart in some way. "…But it'll be all right! I'll come home for Christmas and Easter, and there are the summer holidays! And it's not that long until you start attending school…"

I broke away from his eyes, and stared blankly down at my half-empty plate. It seemed that either I would leave my loved ones, or they would love me. First, I had to leave Godric's Hollow and the Potters. Now my father – beloved Daddy – was going away to teach at his alma mater, which I would not attend for another three years. What was my childhood coming to?

He left three days after my ninth birthday. As a present, he had given me a set of Muggle children's series that he purchased at Flourish & Blotts. Still cross with me about having to stay in London, I had moodily thanked him. When the morning of his departure arrived, I stayed in bed in my pajamas, with my quilt still pulled over me. Dad entered the bedroom silently, having already said good-bye to the others in the den. I shut my eyes when I heard his footsteps approach, and pretended to still be asleep. I could smell his coffee-scented breath above me, and I knew that he was just taking in my slumbering, innocent image. Then he bent down and kissed my forehead, stroked my hair, and left, closing the door behind him.

At the sound of the door closing, I leapt up from bed and dashed to the window, which overlooked the streets of Muggle London. I watched as Dad stepped out of the Leaky Cauldron and turned around to take one final look at the pub. He then went off in the direction of Kings' Cross Station, dragging his luggage along with him.

For the rest of the day, I stayed in my room, curled up in a ball on my bed, letting the tears take over my face.

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	5. Journey

Chapter Four: Nargle-Less Journey

About a month after Dad's departure, three different letters arrived at the Leaky Cauldron – one was addressed to Mum, the second one to me, and the last one for Frankie and Eleanor. I tore open the envelope to my missive so violently that I practically ripped the written letter into two. I read Dad's note in approximately a minute.

_Dearest Alice,_

_My best greetings from Hogwarts, little Ally! You'd love it here, sweetheart, it's even more magnificent than I remembered. Hermione Weasley's SPEW organization has apparently taken its toll here, for only human chefs now cook meals. House elves that refuse to leave Hogwarts often assist them. And strangely, the food has never been more mouthwatering!_

_There aren't many artifacts around the castle from the time in which your mother and I were students. Hogwarts has become much more modern – they have taken down all of the portraits from the Middle Ages and have replaced them with paintings of James' parents, as well as Ron and Hermione Weasley. The images in these portraits move, of course, and act so vile and crude, nothing like the people they supposedly are! The other staff members wished to have my image painted and hung up on the wall, but I automatically declined their offers. My students do not need to know that I was a war hero. That was a thing of the past. I am now a husband, father, and teacher – a warrior is nothing I am today._

_The students are surprisingly very informative of the plants in the greenhouses. I expected Professor Sprout's teaching skills to have faded away over the years, but she left the Hogwarts student body with great knowledge of plants. Teddy Lupin is already at the top of his class in Herbology. Victoire and Dominique Weasley are doing respectively well with their different class levels, but they don't hold the unusual determination and spark Teddy has. _

_Well, now, you never properly met Teddy and the Weasley girls, have you? I promise that you will soon, dear Alice, we'll find some occasion to all get together… _

_I miss you all uncontrollably. There are only three more months until Christmas, and then we'll see each other again! Give your brother and sister a kiss from me, and then ask Mummy to give you a kiss from me. And I do have a feeling that you shall be meeting the rest of the Weasleys and Teddy Lupin quite soon…_

_Yours always,_

_Daddy_

I reread this several times before I realized the questioning air my father had signed off with. Wherever was there a place where I would meet the legendary Weasley children and the Lupin orphan? I had been raised on numerous epics of these people's parents. There were Ron and Hermione, the always destined to be couple, and Harry and Ginny, as well as Remus and Tonks, the two unexpected couples. I remembered being told of Fred and George Weasley, the former having died in the War. Percy Weasley was always a favorite character of mine, with his pompous, self-centered attitude, and then his change of heart just hours before Fred's death.

Puzzlingly, I showed my letter to Mum. She laughed knowingly when she finished skimming it. "Alice, do you remember Luna Lovegood?"

I had a faint memory of this woman who had once visited us in Godric's Hollow. "Yes…a little bit…"

"Dear old Luna has been engaged since April. Her wedding to Rolf Scamander is this December, on Christmas Day, to be exact. Your father just found out the news from Luna herself. She's invited us to the ceremony. Dad wrote that you'd meet everyone because you will – at the wedding. It'll be in Ottery St. Catchpole, where Luna lives, and where the Burrow is. Do you remember the Burrow?"

"I went there? When?" My eyes were wide with astonishment.

"We took you there once when you were a baby. The Potters went with us. You and James were practically sabotaging the garden gnomes there." Mum smiled nostalgically at the memory. I smiled too, although I had no remembrance of this one day. "Molly and Arthur Weasley live at the Burrow," Mum continued, "along with Percy Weasley, his wife Audrey, and their two daughters."

"And what are Percy's daughters' names?" I asked.

And so on and so forth – I questioned my mother about everything she knew about the Burrow and the Weasleys. Finally, she could no longer answer my questions, for they were now deep onto the subject of the Prewett brothers. I had to refer to _Hogwarts, A History _for more on the Weasleys, the revised edition having included much about their contributions to the Second War against Voldemort. But even that beloved book of mine couldn't answer my questions. I spent the following day in Flourish & Blotts, turning the place inside out searching for the perfect book to answer every burning query I had inside of me. I was eager for information on more of the Wizardry world, and one of its major pureblood families.

London life grew a little better when I reminded myself of the upcoming wedding. I knew nothing about Luna, but knew from my parents' tales of her that I'd like her right away. I bombarded my father with letters asking for photographs of Luna, so I could add her image to the scrapbook I had started a year before that centered on all of the people I had encountered so far in life. It was in late November when he accepted my constant requests, and sent enclosed with his next letter a snapshot of Luna Lovegood from her sixth year of school. Her elongate, flaxen hair tumbled down her back, while her bangs were pulled back by a barrette that looked mysteriously as if it was made of butterbeer bottle corks.

She sat in the shade of a colossal tree by the school lake, her light, distant eyes keeping no contact with the camera. In the shot, her head was seen tilting to the side every now and then, as if she was absorbed in something on the other side of the lake. Luna was a dreamer – it was blatantly obvious by this photograph taken nearly two decades ago. I doubted that she had changed much over the course of time – I imagined her as pensive and comely as she was in the photo Dad sent me.

Fondly, I pasted the snapshot on a new page in my scrapbook – on the page that came after the one consisting of photos of the trunk-seller who came to the Leaky Cauldron every Thursday, and the rambunctious spinster who ran Flourish & Blotts. Inscribing Luna's name underneath her photograph, I mentally began counting down the days until her wedding.

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Dad came home for winter break on the twenty-second of December. Throwing away the remembrance of the last time I saw him, I flung my arms around him when he stepped off of the Hogwarts Express on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Dad had been given the option of traveling home away from the students, but chose to ride back to London on the locomotive he had ridden so many times before, and yet, so long ago. Dad lovingly and gratefully hugged me back, exclaiming how I had grown and how he enjoyed reading my many letters. He then scooped three-year-old Eleanor up, plastering her neck with kisses until she was weak with giggles. If there was anything that made Dad smile, it was Eleanor's laugh.

My father joked around by sticking his hand blankly out to Frankie, who laughed and boldly stepped forward for a hug as opposed to a handshake. My brother was six years old, and had not yet reached the point in which a son will only wring his father's hand to show emotion.

I watched happily as Dad then shared a smile with Mum, leading to them embracing lovingly. He kissed her forehead, and then quickly gave her a peck on the lips. Not even twelve years of marriage had expired Mum's ability to blush – she was as red as a tomato when Dad kissed her.

Dad leaned down to pick up the luggage he had discarded to greet us. "Have all of you packed your bags for the wedding? We leave tonight for Ottery St. Catchpole."

My siblings and I nodded eagerly. We were to depart via Portkey to the Lovegoods' home, where we'd board until the day after the wedding. For both the next day and Christmas Eve, we'd assist Mr. Lovegood, Luna, and the Weasleys in last-minute preparations – Rolf Scamander wouldn't complete his current expedition until late Christmas Eve.

When we arrived back at the pub, Mum showed traits of her orderly nature by laying out her already-packed bags by the front door of the pub. Dad placed his luggage from Hogwarts next to her. The two went to serve the late afternoon crowd, whilst I guided Frankie and Eleanor upstairs to pack stray items. Eleanor was reluctant to not add every one of her dolls to her valise, and it became my job to hide the majority of her dolls in our closet, so only one of them was left over. My sister was in tears over this – instead of verbalizing her displeasure, she wailed. Ellie was still a baby, and didn't start talking normally until she was five. She stuck out her lower lip pettily at me, "Allie mean!"

I knew better than to argue back. It was then when it was time to call my mother from upstairs and tell her about Eleanor's miniature temper tantrum. I was terribly distant from my sister, and never mustered up the strength to argue with her when our relationship was already frail.

I shoved my photo scrapbook and camera into my carpetbag, and then hurriedly rushed back downstairs to place my bag with my parents'. We finished serving drinks to the last few customers, and then, once all of our patrons had left the pub, the five of us Longbottoms gathered together in a circle around a dusty, empty butterbeer bottle. I uneasily glared at the Portkey. Mum noticed my discomfort, and rested a hand on my shoulder. "Are you all right, Alice?"

I looked up at her, cheeks red. "Well…have you ever heard of a death caused by a Portkey?"

"Never, darling."

"But, it is possible, isn't it?"

"Anything is possible, Alice," Mum said, "but death by Portkey is practically impossible."

I eyed her wistfully. "Are you sure?"

Mum smiled and held out her hand. "Here, hold on."

I gratefully grasped her white, toughened hand. Across from us, Dad smiled, Eleanor in a piggyback position on his back for the journey. Frank stood between Mum and Dad, bouncing with excitement about this new method of traveling. I was still squeezing Mum's hand for my life when Dad inspected the time on his watch.

"Ten seconds," he announced. "One hand on the Portkey, everyone." Dad reached out and touched the butterbeer bottle with one hand, the other securing Eleanor on his back.

Mum and I each used our free hands to touch the bottle. My heart was pounding so loudly that I could barely hear myself breathe.

"Six seconds," Now Dad was bobbing up and down eagerly, eyes still glued to his watch. "Five and counting…get a good grasp on it, everyone…"

My mother glanced sideways at me, and chuckled calmly. "Here we go."

"Three…two…one…"

I squeezed my eyes shut. I felt a jerking feeling around my navel, and then I felt myself slamming down onto cold, wet ground. My stomach lurching, I opened my eyes to find the obscure, warmed-over setting of the Leaky Cauldron vanished. I was lying on my back in the chalkiest snow I had ever accounted in my life. My hair was already damp from being thrusted upon the snow. Peering around, I found my mother next to me. She was already up from the ground, brushing snow carelessly off of her robes. Dad was nearby as well; snow still stuck to his body as he assisted Eleanor and Frankie in cleaning off.

He turned his head to glance at me. Smiling, Dad asked, "All right there, Allie?"

Shaking suddenly because of the chilliness, I scrambled up from the ground. "Yes…I think so…"

"No deaths because of the Portkey?" Mum joked, picking snow out of my hair. "I'm proud."

As Mum fussed over my appearance, I peered around the area. We were on an average-sized hill, and in the distance, we could spot several houses and shops, smoke lazily wafting out of their chimneys. This little village was Ottery St. Catchpole – our destination.

Dad led our hike to the village's entrance, his eyes gleaming. He was going to see all of his old friends – although this place was no home to him…it was as if he _was _returning home, to the people he loved.

As we walked through the village, Dad's eyes kept shifting back and forth between several houses. Curiously, I questioned him, "What are you looking at, Daddy?"

Dad's hand was shoved in his robe pocket. He was apparently keeping his grasp on his wand, just in case. "Muggles have come to live here over the years. Wizard families like the Lovegoods and the Weasleys magically moved their own houses further out from the actual village, to avoid the Muggles."

"They did all that just to stay away from them?" I exclaimed in disbelief.

Dad nodded. "You'd be surprised how wizards can act around Muggles, Alice."

Finally, we left the Muggle quarters, and were now roaming through several deserted fields. Eleanor whined of being tired, and Mum carried her for the rest of the walk. Frankie, however, excitedly approached me with wide eyes.

"Isn't it great, Ally? Dad says that even with the snow, all of the Weasley and Potter boys play Quidditch in their apple orchard. He says that I can play with them as well!"

Quidditch was no interest to me at the moment. I rolled my eyes – both of my siblings could be quite annoying. "Very nice, Frankie."

We ventured further, with very little conversation. We bore blue lips and chattering teeth when we loomed near the Lovegood residence. But finally, we turned one last corner, and came face-to-face with the house we were searching for.

The house was quite odd-shaped, and slightly tilted to one side. Horns of different shapes and qualities hung from the circular windows, and numerous strings of tinsel hung from the rooftop. Dad and Mum shared a knowing look and laughed together. Dad then stepped forward to knock on the front door, which was painted bright purple.

There was a moment of silence after my father's knock, but soon, the sound of feet sounded from the other side of the door. We could hear several locks unclick, and the door flew open.

And there was Luna. Her image brought smiles to my face immediately. Although the only time I had seen her before was in a photo taken in her sixth year, I would have suspected that there had been no time between that photo and now. Her hair was even longer than in that snapshot, it now being in a lengthy, thrown together braid. A chord of red tinsel was placed around her head, like a crown. Orange earrings that looked mysteriously like radishes hung from her ears. Her eyes were misty and shone silver. A curious smile played upon her face, and her complexion was flawless. I saw no sign of age – no wrinkles, no grey hairs.

"Hello, Longbottoms," Her voice was like music. It was high, and sounded as if there were no worries in the world. "I can't tell you how _grateful _I am that you made it here safely." She leaned in to us, and spoke in a quiet whisper, "They say the Nargles are on the loose this winter. Lucky that you didn't run into them on your journey."

She immediately fascinated me. As my parents and siblings stepped into the house to say hello, I still stood on the stoop, wide-eyed. Luna poked her head back outside, that strange smile still plastered on her face. "Are you coming in?"

"What are Nargles?" I blurted out.

There was a spilt second of silence, and then Luna's smile expanded. Her whole face shone when she smiled as widely as that. Placing a hand on my shoulder, she replied, "Well, Alice Pomona, we don't want to talk about them in the open, do we? They tend to attack when spoken of." She stepped away to let me enter. Enraptured, I walked into her home.

The first thing you saw after entering was a ginorumus clock on the wall, which was also round, like the windows. Instead of numbers on the face of the clock, unfamiliar pictures replaced them. "They're all of the creatures Daddy and I have looked for over the years," Luna explained. "A Nargle is in place of the twelve, because Dad actually saw one of them when I was a baby."

Behind Luna's back, I gave my father a questioning look. He merely smiled and shook his head. He said to Luna, "When did you redecorate? I don't remember that clock being there."

"We changed things around after the Crumple-Horned Snorkack horn blew up the house," Luna said cheerfully.

"It was an Erumpent horn, Luna," a brisk, matter-of-fact voice called out. We turned back to the clock to find a bushy-haired woman descending from a set of stairs that were located behind the wall. I immediately recognized this woman as Hermione Weasley, nee Granger.

"Ah! Neville! Hannah! You've arrived!" Hermione hurried forward to give my parents greeting hugs. She tickled Eleanor under the chin and planted a wet kiss on Frank's forehead, much to his dismay. She then turned to him, an expression of surprise taking over her face. "Why, Alice! How you've grown!"

"Thank you," I said, red-faced.

Hermione gave me a squeeze, one that seemed too close for comfort. As she let go of me, my mother asked her, "You're not staying at the Burrow with Ron's parents?"

"No. It's already too crowded there, with everyone else staying there as well. Besides, I wanted to help Luna finish up wedding preparations."

Luna's cheeks shone brightly. "Rolf comes home soon, you know."

I couldn't help but giggle at her comment. As absentminded as Luna as, it was possible for a batty person like herself to love – I had not thought this, it was my father's statement. I thought of Luna as a wonderful, independent woman, and as a new friend.

"Alice," Hermione's voice broke me of my thoughts, "Rose and Liana are upstairs, if you'd like to see them."

"Liana?" I raised an eyebrow. I was familiar with Hermione's daughter, Rose, who was a year younger than me, and the same age as Albus Potter, but this name was new. "Who is she?"

"Rolf's niece," Luna told me, the smile not fading once from her face. "Her parents were killed in a Muggle automobile incident, and Rolf looks after her and her older brother."

I gaped. Even something as tragic as two deaths sounded jubilant when Luna said it. But even so, I headed up the stairway, using my surroundings to find the bedroom I would share with both Rose Weasley and Liana Scamander for the few days I'd be here. The hallway, too, was circular – I wasn't surprised. I reached a room in the corner of the hall, and assumed from the high-pitched chatter that came from inside that this was the right bedroom. Just as I reached out to turn the doorknob, the door banged open itself.

Two girls were looking back at me. One had the face of Ron Weasley, with the same color hair as Hermione, although the texture of this girl's hair was straighter. Her eyes were unlike neither of her parents – the two pupils that stared back at me were silvery-blue, very uncommon in the Weasley family.

The other girl was taller than her companion, and although Hermione had said that she was my age, she looked about twelve. Her hair, too, was chestnut-colored, and ended just below her shoulders. Her eyes were a warm, friendly dark brown, and they seemed as if they were smiling at me, due to the twinkle in them. Plus, this girl was grinning at me, while the other still appeared startled by my sudden appearance.

"Hello," the taller girl said with a chipper tone. "You must be Alice. Auntie Luna told me about you." She giggled. "I call her Auntie even though she's not officially that yet. But I just love the word, don't you?"

Before I could get a word in, she continued, "I'm Liana Scamander. Pleasure to meet you." She stuck out her hand, both eyes and mouth still beaming.

"Hi," I said, suddenly nervous about Liana. She seemed very upbeat and hyper, which was the exact opposite of me.

The smaller girl smiled at me too, although her smile held no warmth, but nervousness. "Hi, Alice."

"Hello, Rose. Have you been over by the Burrow yet?"

The little girl shook her head. "Not yet. But we're all going over there for supper."

I glanced for a moment back at Liana, hoping that she didn't mind being currently left out of the conversation. But she still appeared blithe, even when picking at the string bracelet on her wrist.

"Have the Potters arrived yet?" I continued nagging Rose for information.

"No," Rose flopped down on her bed, a sign that she wanted to end our conversation. "But they're going to stay here as well."

I could feel my heart sink. I would have to share a house with that nine-year-old, sexist pig for the next four days. I was quaking with dread.

Liana impatiently slid off of her bed. "Would you like to go out to the orchard with us? Michael is there with some of the Weasley boys. They're playing Quidditch." She scoffed playfully. "Those boys will do anything to bore them to death, won't they?"

I disagreed. Quidditch was simply wonderful, and I often fantasize over making one of the House teams at Hogwarts. But despite my beliefs, I followed Liana and Rose over to the Burrow, and then to the apple orchard there. We found four boys there - Fred Weasley Jr., Hugo Weasley – Rose's younger brother – Louis Weasley, and one male that was alien to me. He was the lankiest of the four, but Liana said that he was only eleven. His hair was shoulder-length, and the most onyx color I had ever seen. His eyes were a piercing, light terracotta color, and when he looked over at us when we arrived, his eyes sent zings through my body. I then recalled how Liana had said that Michael – whoever that was - was with the boys in the orchard. Could this be that Michael?

Liana collapsed onto the ground aloofly, apparently not bothered by the snow. I plopped down next to her hesitantly, while Rose, feeling left out because of her age, sat a bit further away. We lay on our backs in the snow, letting the cold overtake our heads, while observing the boys' two-on-two Quidditch game. Fred and Hugo were on one team, while Louis was with the mystery boy. Liana cackled fondly as the unfamiliar boy took a nosedive as he tried to catch the Quaffle. "That's my brother, Mikey," she interpreted. "He's home from his first year at Hogwarts."

"What House is he in?"

"Gryffindor." Liana seemed proud of Michael. "He's the first one from our family to be Sorted in there too. Bit of a showoff, that he is, but that's why we love him!" She shrugged, laughing more.

Although still a little apprehensive about the unpredictable Liana, I liked her no-worries attitude. She appeared fun and feisty – as feisty as a nine-year-old could get, that is. I wasn't used to befriending girls, having grown up playing with James and Albus Potter. But this kind of "gal pal" relationship interested me. It seemed comforting to have a friend of the same gender who you could talk to about your feminine problems, and not worry about being laughed at. I decided then that I'd welcome Liana into my world right away.

"Alice?" Liana's voice sounded out. "I was thinking – have you ever had a best friend before?"

James's image flashed in my mind for a moment, but I shook it off quickly. "No," I said to Liana. "I haven't."

"Would you like to be my best friend?" Liana asked. "I've never really had a friend who wasn't my brother or a Weasley…it'd be nice for a change!"

"Yes," I declared. "You're my new friend."

And our friendship was formed, as simply as that. In the world of nine-year-olds, true love could be declared in a sincere, natural way, and no embarrassment would be shed. How comforting that world was…

Molly Weasley's shrill voice could then be heard calling us in for supper. Eager to enter the Burrow, I sat up quickly and didn't start brushing off the snow on me until I was halfway to the Burrow. Liana was a speedy runner, and appeared at my side just as I was approaching the door. "Oh, could I _please _go in first?" she implored me. "Ma Weasley let me make a seating arrangement for tonight, and I want to be sure everyone knows of it."

I allowed her to step in before me. She bounded off once inside, and I quickly followed. The first floor of the house was filled with people – all of the Weasleys, their spouses, and children, Luna, her father, and Michael. I didn't notice until I found my seating card who had arrived…

There was the card with my name written on it, placed on a chipped blue plate at the dining table. Luna's card was on my seat's left. Another card was on my right as well, with that cursed name on it…in Liana's crooked, red handwriting, it read:

_James Potter._


	6. Jitters

Chapter Five: The Jitters

At first, I had the fleeting thought of switching name cards, so Hugo Weasley – who would be sitting on James's other side – would be next to me. But I soon renounced that idea – it had been practically a year since our New Year's Day meeting, in which he had proclaimed me "just a girl". We were a year older, and would be going to school together in less than two years. Age and time would hopefully change James's opinion on what girls could and couldn't do…

I calmly seated myself in my assigned chair, and grew eager when Luna sat down, her hair now lying loose on her shoulders. I jerked my head towards her, eyes round, and asked, "Could you tell me more about the Nargles?"

Luna smiled faintly, cocking her head to the side. "They're known to inhabitant mistletoe, you know. That's why I told Daddy that I wouldn't have a strand of mistletoe above my head and Rolf's at the ceremony." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Nargles on a wedding day are very bad luck."

I rested my cheek on my hand. "They sound horribly fascinating."

Luna turned her attention back to her plate. "They are…they're simply amazing."

I was so focused on these mysterious Nargles that I didn't hear the chair on my right side be pulled out, and then sat in. My heart lurching, my eyes slid sideways. He had grown several inches taller since I had last seen him, and his hair was scruffier than I remembered. There was a small cut on his forehead, and I wondered if he had attempted to give himself a scar similar to his father's, like he had done when we were six.

He turned his head to peer over at me. I couldn't help but let a blush overcome my face. It was difficult not to blush, especially when I replayed our last meeting.

"Hello, Alice," James gave me a small smile, one that was unreadable. It held no warmth, and no memories.

I stared down at my plate, non-responsive. Half of me was hoping that James had completely forgotten of last New Year's Day, and was eager to talk with me again. The other half was apprehensive, and just plain embarrassed whenever he was in the room. But, perhaps it wasn't only New Year's Day that ruined this friendship? Could it be that we were no longer neighbors, and people who spotted each other every day?"

My eyes still glued to my plate, I answered him, "Hi."

We didn't find a need to speak any further – James was brought into a conversation about the Chudley Cannons with Hugo, and the varied platters of food that Molly Weasley Sr., Hermione, and Victoire Weasley were carrying in from the kitchen heavily distracted me. As the many different aromas filled my nose, I could just feel the drool pour out of my mouth. No one had ever told me of Mrs. Weasley's legendary cooking. As the woman set out the food on the table, I was positive that I had died and had ascended into Heaven, what with all of this delicious-looking food. Inquisitively, as soon as the servers had taken their places at the table and Molly announced that we'd all dig in, my hand snapped out and the next thing I knew, I was saddling my plate with numerous portions of food.

As I began tucking into roast chicken, Liana, who was sitting across from me, giggled. Her plate was filled with only three different dishes, and she was eating as delicately as possible. "I see you haven't had much of Ma Weasley's cooking before, eh?"

"It's brilliant!" I wiped some sauce off of my chin. "The most delicious food I've ever had!"

As I made myself look like a pig over Mrs. Weasley's cooking, the other Weasleys studied me for entertainment. James found it particularly funny that I'd even lick chicken bones dry to get every bit of moist meat on my tongue. I purposely ignored the looks Mum and Dad kept shooting me – they were trying to tell me to stop acting so rude, but I couldn't help it, and no one else seemed peeved of my behavior. Mrs. Weasley blushed contentedly all throughout the meal because of my sudden love for her culinary creations.

By the time everyone's plates were crumb-free, and the serving platters were deserted, Mrs. Weasley magically sent the silverware back into the kitchen. I was feeling content and lethargic after dinner, but yet, I still bubbled up with joy when dessert was brought out. Somehow – I still don't know how I did it – I made room inside of me for chocolate tart and Yorkshire pudding. Once dessert was cleared away, it was time for everyone staying at the Lovegoods' to leave, for wedding preparations would begin bright and early the next day.

I was wondering if James and Albus would be boarding in a room near the one I was in with Liana and Rose as we trudged through the snow back to the Lovegoods'. A confused feeling rushed through me when Mr. Lovegood led the boys to the floor above us upon our arrival at the house. I fell asleep that night wondering why I was acting so childish…

* * *

The next day began at six a.m. for us. We gobbled down breakfast at the Burrow, and although some of us – mostly me - wished to continue eating, Mrs. Weasley bustled us out of the kitchen like a mother hen. Luna sent Ron Weasley, Harry Potter, Michael Scamander, James, Fred, and a boy who I later learned was Teddy Lupin to work on her wedding altar, for the ceremony would occur outdoors, in the backyard of the Lovegoods' home, among the wet snow – a charm that would weaken the coldness would be set on the yard.

The job Liana, Rose, Lily, Dominique, and I were given was to help Molly Weasley with the cooking preparations. Only Dominique and Liana knew how to prepare food properly, while the rest of us could barely make toast without burning it. My parents very rarely used magic in our home, to teach their children that you should never rely completely on magic. My mother cooked our food in London manually, and no one would help her out. This was likely the reason why I was clueless over using a cheese grater that day in the Burrow's kitchen. The girls laughed fondly over my naivety, while Mrs. Weasley pecked me on the cheek before guiding me in a proper lesson of cheese grating.

During this lesson, both Michael and James came in from the Lovegoods' yard, sweating, despite the chilliness outdoors. James blinked at me blankly before pouring himself a glass of water. Pretending not to care, I bent industrially over my bowl of freshly grated cheese. Michael, however, chuckled along with the girls when I dug the grater so deeply into a block of cheese that the dairy product bounced out of my hand.

Blushing now that the boys were present, I knelt down to snatch up the cheese. Michael, with his sturdy, eleven-year-old legs, reached the floor before me and had the cheese in his hand before I knew it. "Keep a firmer grip on it next time," he said to me, fighting back a smile.

Liana guffawed heavily. "Are you hiding something from us, Mikey? You were the one to say that a girl's place is only in the kitchen!"

Michael smiled gently, while James, hunched over by the sink, rolled his eyes. "Come on, Mike. We have to help Dad and everyone else finish the altar."

Michael nodded and followed him outdoors, but not before he turned back to us and gave us each farewell smiles. To me, he spoke, "Remember – grate the cheese lightly." He left us in giggles and red faces.

Mrs. Weasley sighed and wrung her dishtowel as Michael and James departed. "How I've always liked that boy! Liana, dear, your brother is one to look up to, you know!"

Liana rolled her eyes, but only when Mrs. Weasley had her back turned. "Yes, Ma Weasley."

I had been told by Liana herself that she didn't like being compared to Michael, and that he was no more interesting than her, but for some reason, I ached for the story behind Michael. There was something about him that I was interested in uncovering…

* * *

I spent the rest of the morning in the Burrow's kitchen, and was then granted a free afternoon because of my devotion to my cheese grating, as Mrs. Weasley said it. To my delight, I spent these open hours lugging my camera around, photographing every person in sight. I was overjoyed when Xenophilius Lovegood finally dubbed me the 'official' wedding photographer.

This 'promotion' brought me into a photo frenzy. I snapped a shot of Dad bent over a bundle of fungus in the Lovegoods' garden. I took a candid picture of my mother measuring a sleeve on Luna's wedding gown, while Luna narrowed down song selections to play at the wedding reception. Liana and Lily – being more bold and loud than Rose and Eleanor – posed for me with Lucy Weasley and Molly Weasley Jr. at the top of the tallest tree in the apple orchard. Rose and Eleanor finally agreed for me to snap their images when they were sitting on the back stoop of the Burrow together. Hiding behind a nearby bush, I even caught a shot of James and Albus helping the rest of the group put the finishing touches on the altar.

But there was one person who withheld to have his picture taken. Michael had disappeared shortly after coming to the kitchen during our cooking session. I finally pinpointed him behind the Lovegoods' house, buried beneath a Transfiguration textbook. Peeking out at him from behind the other end of the house, I no longer saw the quiet and considerate boy who had picked up my cheese for me. I saw a studious…and far too serious boy, one who considered himself older than reality.

"Michael!" I stepped forward from behind the wall. He jumped at my appearance, but soon settled down, eyes still glued to his textbook.

"I'm sorry, Alice, I can't play now. I have to finish some homework before Uncle Rolf comes tomorrow."

"I don't _want _to play. I just want to take your picture. Luna's father made me the wedding photographer."

Michael laughed coldly, shocking me a little. "Then why did he hire that man from Diagon Alley to photograph the wedding party?"

My heart sank with denial at first, but I soon brightened up. Deep down, I didn't really think that I was the actual photographer. "Where is there a rule that there can't be two photographers?"

Michael sighed. "Really, Alice, I need to look over this before the chaos starts tomorrow. When you're in school, you'll understand."

Disheartened, I slunk away, clutching my camera. Michael had seemed so gentle, so kind, and yet, he had snapped at me like James had on New Year's Day.

But I quickly forgot of Michael's attitude when Mrs. Weasley called us girls in to help her prepare the extravagant wedding cake for Christmas Day. This was a time to toss away what had happened that day, and have fun. We snuck frosting when Molly wasn't looking, and watched fascinatingly as she molded the tiny sugar figurines of Luna and Rolf for the top of the cake. This made me even more eager for Rolf's arrival the next day…

* * *

We awoke on Christmas Eve to find a wooden Christmas tree on the Lovegoods' main floor. Luna said that Nargles had been reported to now reside in pine trees, and that a wooden tree painted green would be safer than a real one. We exchanged presents that morning, instead of having to do so on the day of the wedding. I received a brand new set of dress robes from my father, to wear for the wedding. Mum gave me a silver pendant, while Luna provided to me a similar necklace, only one to "scare off the Nargles".

I was startled when James handed to me a wrapped gift. "Mum made me get you a present," he replied, blushing. "B-but I picked it out…well, _made _it…by myself."

Hesitantly, I unwrapped the colorful paper covering the present to reveal a photograph album. At first, I assumed that it was an empty scrapbook, for me to paste my original snapshots into it. But James then intolerantly seized the book from me, and unlatched the lock around the album that kept it from opening. He showed me the inside pages, and my mouth merely dropped open.

The thick pages of the album consisted of photographs of James and I dating back to the birth. There was the infamous shot of James exposing his bare bottom to the camera when we were eight months old, with me in the background of the photo bearing an amused face. I reminisced when seeing the photo of us covered from head to toe in mud, laughing as Mr. Potter used his wand to send jets of water towards us. The memory lane ended with the photograph of the two of us taken on the day before my family left for London for the first time.

I looked back up at the boy who was possibly still my best friend. "James…thank you!"

He shifted in his seat. "Dad said that I should make it…because you and I don't see each other much anymore. And Mum found all of the photos…"

I gleefully hugged the album to my chest. "Thank you so much…I love it!"

Throughout the rest of the day, I felt more jovial and flighty than I ever had before. I kept James's photo album tucked under my arm, but not until I pasted into the album the recently developed photo of James and his brother helping with the wedding altar. I skipped lunch at the Burrow to lock myself in the bedroom at the Lovegoods' and create a title card for my album – _Alice P. Longbottom and James S. Potter: Birth to Death. _I was a naïve child at the time, and was fully convinced that I'd treasure these photos until my breath's expiration time.

Rolf Scamander's arrival broke my eyes away from the album, and my feet out of the bedroom. Rolf arrived by Floo powder and landed precisely in the Lovegoods' fireplace. The noise of him spilling out of the fireplace and into the living room brought all of the house's temporary residents down to the main floor. Liana and I entered the room at the same time, and I witnessed Liana squealing in pleasure as she rushed forward to embrace her uncle. Michael even sulked downstairs from his room long enough to greet Rolf.

As I watched the Scamanders hug and kiss each other, I felt a ping of jealousy inside. Liana and Michael were clearly very close, and had a sibling bond that I failed to have with my brother and sister. The only people Liana had in this world were her brother and uncle, and soon to be Luna and Mr. Lovegood. At some points, even in my early childhood, I longed to be away from my pestering siblings and my prying mother. Seeing the way Liana loved Michael and Rolf made me feel both envious and guilty, and almost causing me to reach the point of a second chance with my family…

After spinning his niece lovingly around the room and shaking the hand of his nephew firmly, Rolf looked away from Liana and Michael to greet us, the people who were not family, and who now felt like intruders. As Luna's fiancée exchanged the common hellos with my parents, Ron and Hermione, and Mr. Lovegood, I observed him thoroughly. His blond hair was slightly too long and grungy – it was nearing his shoulders that day he came home. His face had burns and scratches, obviously marks from the mysterious beasts he had encountered over the years. But despite the scarification on his face, Rolf was handsome and young and the male equivalent to Luna. He spoke with a slightly more grounded tone than Luna, but not so grounded that he was a strict fusser.

Rolf glanced upon Rose, Hugo, Frankie, Eleanor, James, Albus, Lily, and I. He shot us each a friendly smile, and said, "Well, you lot must be the ones who have rescued Li-Li and Mike from boredom, eh?"

I couldn't believe it – his voice was just like Luna's…melodious. But the effect his voice had on me didn't stop me from asking a question that was throbbing inside me. With wide eyes, I approached him and asked, "Mr. Scamander, have you ever seen any Nargles on your journeys?"

His beam widened, and he bent down to be at my eye level. "You must be Ally Longbottom…I'd recognize that walk anywhere."

Liana appeared at his side. "Don't listen to him, Alice! He's seen plenty of Nargles, he just doesn't like to brag!"

Rolf laughed and drew Liana into a hug. "She knows me too well," he apologized to me.

"So you have seen them?" The more I heard of these creatures, the more I was fascinated with them.

He wiped off the smile to give me a serious glare. "Come to my room after supper. I have photographs of them."

I smiled at him, and he returned it. Our eye contact was broken when Rolf's new bride entered, eyes shining like never before.

Right when I saw the look shared between Rolf and Luna, I realized that I had just witnessed true love. I watched in awe as Rolf came up to Luna and wrapped his arms around her. Luna still maintained her dreamy and distant aura, but for some reason, seemed more serious when in her love's arms. A nine-year-old could only see the easy and wonderful part of love, and not the bumpy road needed to be taken to reach that worriless love. Little did I know, as much as I wanted this true love, I thought about who I'd finally have it with, and when…

* * *

Throughout the rest of Christmas Eve, Rolf did what he needed to in order to prepare for the wedding the next day. However, after dinner, it was time for him to move his bags over to the Burrow, where he would spend the night. Liana followed him there like a puppy, and as soon as Rolf deposited his bags into his bedroom, his niece dragged him outside to the apple orchard, for a game of Quidditch with the boys. I was lucky enough to be included, the Weasleys having possession of several spare broomsticks. Although Michael forced me to be the Keeper for his team, which caused me to be out of the way, I was fine with my position; free to watch how Rolf would treat the children he played with.

In that one hour in which we played Quidditch, I saw in Rolf a duplicate of my own father's behavior. Dad was one who never had a true family when growing up, and now treasured the family he had currently. For an unknown reason, I assumed Rolf had been in the same situation. He pretended – or was it his true playing skills I saw? – to be a dreadful Quidditch player, allowing the boys or Liana to catch the Quaffle when he could have easily gotten a hold of it. Rolf brought humor into his terrible playing, and dutifully accepted the mockery the boys and Liana brought upon him.

_He'll be an amazing father one day, _I said in my head, and then ignored Michael's yells to guard the goal posts, leading to me joining the action of the game. As the game slowly ended, jitters arose in all of us, as we thought of the wedding the next day…

* * *

**Please tell me what you think!**


	7. Unity

**Finally, here's the chapter consisting of Luna's Christmas wedding. The next chapter will outline Alice's tenth year, and most of it won't be in much detail, except for a few major events. I'm sorry it took awhile to get this up. I had a lot of fun writing it. **

* * *

Chapter Six: Unity…True and Odd

The morning of the wedding dawned on us with a heavy snowstorm outdoors. By the time Liana and I had shuffled downstairs for breakfast, we learned that my father had hurried off to the Burrow to help several of the Weasleys set charms around the wedding altar, to weaken the level of chilliness.

"Those charms work wonders," Liana assured me as she poked at her porridge. "It'll feel like spring by the time the men are done with applying the magic."

As we two dug through our breakfasts, one by one, housemates joined us in the kitchen, and began helping themselves to food of all sorts. Michael came frolicking down the stairs in his pajamas, with his dress robes flung over his shoulder. He was to eat and then hike over to the Burrow, where Rolf had spent the night. Although only eleven, Rolf had baptized his nephew as his best man for the wedding. Michael was evidently quite eager to live up to his duties, as he snatched a banana up from the table and was out the door in a matter of seconds.

Mum wallowed into the room also in her nightgown, her eyes still slumberous and half-shut. Feeling around the kitchen counter for the pitcher of pumpkin juice, she announced, "Poor Luna is getting nervous already. She's already vomited in the toilet – Hermione's calming her down now."

The mental image of aloof Luna hunched over a toilet shocked me. Pushing back my chair, I hurried upstairs and down to the W.C, where a mini-queue had gathered outside the door. Rose and Lily greeted me wide-eyed, their hair knotty and sticking up – it was most likely that they had been aroused from slumber by Luna's retching. I was surprised when seeing that Molly, Lucy, and Roxanne – all who had been staying at the Burrow – were there as well.

"Grandma Molly sent us over right after we finished eating," seven-year-old Roxanne told me. "All of us girls will be over here soon, and the boys will be at the Burrow."

"Why is it that the bride and groom can't see each other before the wedding?" I grumbled to her. "It's a silly tradition. When I get married, I'll make sure that that rule will be broken."

Liana came up from behind me, giggling. "By the time you'll be married, you'll have forgotten that you wanted to break that rule."

"No, I won't!" I protested. All of these girls knew each other better than I did them, and I wanted a reason to stick out among them, and be different. "You'll see. I'll invite you all to my wedding just for you to see!"

My proclamation brought forth sniggers among the other girls. I merely hung my head high, and maintained a confident smile. Our childish actions were broken when the bathroom door creaked open, and Hermione stepped out, leading a pale Luna into the hall.

"Luna!" we little girls broke out into concerned tones. "Are you all right? Will you still get married?"

Bold Lily, who was six at the time, blurted out, "Are you contagious?"

Luna smiled at us weakly. "Hello, girls," her voice still rang out like music, but it was a little raspy after her early meeting with the toilet. "Don't you worry, I'll be fine. The Wrackspurts must have just paid my bedroom a visit last night. But I'm perfectly all right now!"

"Luna has gifts for you all," said Hermione.

As eagerness struck us all, Luna nodded. "My family has a tradition that a bride gives all of the female guests under ten a piece of her childhood before marrying." She held a head count, and then continued, "We just need little Eleanor to wake up, and then I'll hand out your gifts."

Immediately, before Luna even finished her sentence, us seven girls were bounding down to the room where my parents and Eleanor had spent the night. Only my sister was occupying the room at the moment, sleeping angelically in the queen bed, where Mum had placed her after both she and Dad had awoken.

The other girls hesitated when they saw Ellie's sleeping figure, but I didn't even give it a second thought before flopping down on the bed heavily. I shared a bedroom back home with this girl, and I knew what could wake her up.

"Alice!" Liana screeched. "How could you-"

But Eleanor had awaken, teary-eyed that I had jerked her awake so abruptly. "Ally mean!" she cried out – that phase was apparently one of her favorites as a baby.

Lucy, who was only three months older than Eleanor, bustled around and explained to my sister in a gurgled, three-year-old way about Luna's family tradition. Eleanor was up and about rapidly, and before we knew it, the eight of us had trampled down to Luna's bedroom.

Luna's sleeping quarters were crammed. No longer was the circular bedroom that had been destroyed by the Erumpent Horn's explosion so long ago. The room was now rectangular, with a tiny bed that bore bright purple sheets in one corner. A shelf on the wall held numerous books, probably about all of the magical creatures Luna was an expert about. A portrait of Rolf that had been painted by Luna herself hung next to the bookshelf, the painting bearing a perfect resemblance to Rolf.

Luna was lounging in a chair by the window when we entered, a burlap sack at her feet. "Do you like it?" she asked us, nodding towards the painting. "I'm giving it to Rolf as a wedding present."

As we rattled off our 'well done's and 'fantastic's, Luna beamed, having retained her dreamy exterior. She was still dressed in her vomit-splattered bed jacket, but for some reason, the vomit did not appeal grossly to us. She summoned us over to her chair, and urged us to make ourselves comfortable on the floor. As we plopped downwards, Luna reached down and pulled the sack into her lap. "What I'm about to give you all are treasures of mine that were like friends to me in my childhood," she began, giving us that enchanting smile. "They helped me see brightly when the day wasn't so bright itself – honestly, what those Crumple-Horned Snorkacks can do!"

Luna ducked her head into the bag, rummaging through it until she yanked out a rag doll. Giving us a speech about how this doll was one of the last things her mother gave to her before her death, Luna handed the doll to Eleanor, giving my sister's hair a motherly tug. The next items given out were a miniature portrait of the Lovegoods' home pre-explosion – the painting having been one that Mr. Lovegood had created and had inspired Luna to paint herself – and a brooch of what Luna said to bear the silhouette of Rowena Ravenclaw. These things were respectively given to Molly and Rose. Lily and Roxanne were then given a pair of radish earrings and a sunflower hair clip.

After she bestowed upon Lucy one of her father's old exploration telescopes, Luna turned to Liana and I, the eldest girls of the eight receiving gifts.

"Firstly, Liana," Luna said as seriously as she could without sounding too dreamy. "You'll be my niece by the end of the day, so I figured I'd give you one of my most prized possessions." When her hand withdrew from the sack, it clutched onto the butterbeer cork necklace my father had told me of the previous night. I knew of Luna's devotion to that simple little necklace.

Apparently, Liana knew of the necklace's significance as well. She gasped upon laying eyes on it. "Oh, Auntie Luna!" she breathed. "Your necklace – for _me_?"

Luna nodded, eyes getting slightly misty. She reached out to embrace Liana, who gratefully returned the hug. Wiping her eyes dry, Luna dug around in her sack for my present. "And for Alice…"

I sat up straighter, and drew my breath.

Luna pulled out a heavy-looking book, one that was shriveling and fading with age. "The revised edition of _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them – _Daddy contributed to it, and those authors made sure to include Wrackspurts, Nargles, and Crumple-Horned Snorkacks in this edition."

I squealed in excitement. "Oh Luna! Thank you so much!" I accepted the book from her in glee. "Now I can learn about the Nargles!"

"And much more!" Liana added helpfully.

The eight of us bombarded Luna with hugs and kisses, not caring about getting dirty from the vomit stains on her night attire. Luna graciously returned each hug and kiss before Hermione, Mum, and Ginny bustled in with the four other Mrs. Weasleys that had just arrived from the Burrow – Molly, Fleur, Angelina, and Audrey. It was time for them to assist Luna in changing into her wedding outfit, and to apply makeup. Angelina Weasley and Ginny Potter shooed us little girls into the bedroom Liana, Rose, and I had slept in. Fourteen-year-old Victoire and twelve-year-old Dominique were there, ready to help us get changed into our dresses as well.

As the other girls busily slipped into their dresses, I lingered when fingering the dress my father had given me as a present the previous day. My playing with males at an early age prevented me from growing up with items a normal girl would – I was bored with my dollhouse, frilly dresses, etc., and they were not put to use again until Eleanor was born. The dress Dad had given me lacked frills and the color pink; in their stead was a floaty, periwinkle dress material that was made perfectly for my nine-year-old, simple figure. Biting my lip, I wiggled into it before I had any objections. The lack of pants felt awkward on me, but after several of the girls complimented my look, I tried to verge away from self-consciousness.

We girls filed downstairs, where Mum began organizing us into rows for the photographer to snap our picture. After photographs were through for us at least, high chatter broke out among the stairs, and as the numerous Weasley women, with the former Weasley woman, bustled into the kitchen, Luna entered after them, looking simply radiant in a long, flowing yellow dress.

We bust out into squeals over Luna's appearance – she looked grounded, yet dreamy, and simple, yet breathtaking. After begging my mother, I was allowed to dash back upstairs to get my camera and hurried back to the kitchen to snap Luna's picture on my own. The professional photographer then arranged us all into more rows, and took one more snapshot before allowing us to tramp outside to the Burrow.

The cold immediately bit into our bare skin, but Mrs. Molly Weasley assured us that it'd be warmer at the altar. The walk to the ceremony quarters nearly killed us, especially those wearing high heels. But the humidity that hit as soon we stepped within ten feet of the altar caused sweat beads to break out underneath our clothes. A canopy had been placed above the altar, and all of the males who had gone over to the Burrow to dress and assist Rolf were underneath it, helping guests find their seats.

Among the guests were Dean Thomas and his Muggle wife, and the now ancient Filius Flitwick, the former Charms teacher at Hogwarts, and the head of Luna's House. My mother set forth with my father to greet these icons of their past, while us children began to mingle at the back of the many row of chairs. I noticed James speaking with Fred and Michael, all looking suspicious. I figured that James had a prank up his sleeve, and was bringing the other two into it. As I observed the trio distantly, I found myself acknowledging the fact that James looked quite handsome in his dress robes, perhaps even more handsome than Michael, who was looking a bit peckish in his putrid orange robes.

With my camera still tucked underneath my arm, I joined Luna, Hermione, and Ginny, all who had been waiting in another tent for the start of the wedding. Ginny and Hermione had been named matrons-of-honor, as they were both already married. Victoire and Dominique were filling in the positions of bridesmaids, along with Luna's sixteen-year-old twin cousins, Madeline and Josephine. Liana had proudly accepted the offered slot of flower girl, and was standing outside the bride's tent with a smug look as I approached.

"Look at the flowers I get to toss around," Liana egocentrically showed me the petty white basket she was to carry, the basket containing African violets. "Auntie Luna let me pick them out – I made sure that these are anti-Nargle – we wouldn't want those things crashing the wedding!"

I enviously eyed Liana's extensive, purple dress – one that ironically matched her violets. I admitted to myself that I was jealous of Liana's girlish exterior, while I was 'blessed' with thickset legs that always bore scabs, and my mother's knotty and flyaway yellow hair. Liana was a nine-year-old in an eleven-year-old's body. She was more than a head taller than me, and her hair was at a perfect and straight length. Behind my friend, I could even spot several of Luna's male, ten-year-old relatives eye Liana quizzically, but yet in an interested way.

Without replying to Liana's comment, I brushed past her into the tent. A vanity mirror was placed in the center of the premise, with a cushioned bench in front of it. Luna sat upon the bench like a queen, with Ginny pinning a hair clip similar to the one Roxanne had received into the bride's hair. Hermione was rattling off last-minute instructions to the bridesmaid quartet located in the corner.

"Hello, little Alice," a smile played across Luna's glowing face.

"I never wished you luck," I told her apologetically. "O-or congratulations."

"There's no need for that, I know you mean it." Luna rose from the bench, her robes falling over her feet.

"Thank you again for the book," I said. "I'll read it as soon as we go back home."

Luna nodded her appreciation, and I shyly held up my camera. "May I take another picture of you? With the rest of them?" I motioned toward Hermione, Ginny, and the bridesmaids.

"Of course, Alice," Luna grinned, and self-organized herself and her bridal party into two rows. After pulling Liana in from her post outside the tent and placing her dead-center, I snapped the picture, only to have Ginny step out of her row after the photo was taken.

"Why don't you stand with them while I take a picture, Alice?" she asked. "You may be part of the bridal party, but…"

"But I like you to be in a photo with us just the same!" Luna finished gleefully.

I eagerly placed myself next to Liana, and beamed broadly as Ginny snapped the photo.

* * *

Soon, the wedding march's tune struck up from an invisible band, and we all hurried out of the bridal tent. I found my place with my family on the bride's side, while the women I had just been with arranged themselves properly at the other end of the carpet aisle. Rolf appeared at the aisle, with Michael behind him, and an ancient-looking minister soon joined them there. I was practically bouncing out of my seat with excitement – already, I loved the chaos and disorder of a wedding, especially when it managed to contain romance and family gatherings as well.

The music struck up more boldly, and heads swerved around to see Liana and the ring bearer, another one of Rolf's nephews, proceed up the aisle. Sighs of adoration broke out among the crowd, smiling at the two cousins. Liana grimaced at being treated like a five-year-old, and I fought back a giggle, but only after Dad squeezed my hand meaningfully to stop me.

Next came the four bridesmaids, each ushered by their own groomsman. A collective breath was withdrawn from what seemed to be everyone. We were all stunned by the bridesmaids' beauty and their escorts' handsomeness. Even twelve-year-old Dominique was looking mature and developed next to her fifteen-year-old groomsman. As they lined up in their assigned places, there was a creak as guests stood from their chairs as Luna and Mr. Lovegood began their march up the aisle.

My eyes darted back and forth between the bride and the groom during this walk. Rolf's eyes had gone alit, and the scratches on his face seemed nearly invisible when Luna neared closer and closer. Luna's eyes held the same aliveness as her to-be husband's. Mr. Lovegood guffawed sobbingly as he gave away his daughter, and when he did, we returned to our seats.

And so began the whole and eventually boring wedding ceremony. Throughout the whole speeches, readings, etc., I felt myself growing numb and lethargic, and found myself staring blankly at the canopy above the wedding altar. _What would happen if it'd fall…?_

Almost the exact moment my thought left my head, the canopy's supportive poles wobbled dangerously and plunged downwards, the entire canopy falling down on Luna, Rolf, and the minister. The crowd erupted, and several guests rushed forward to pull the trio out from underneath the canopy material. I was still in my glazed over state when this occurred, but the loud snorting laugher of James Potter broke me from my daze.

Dad immediately jumped to his feet. "Good God! How could that have happened? There was no wind…"

"Daddy," I interrupted, the cogs in my head turning feverishly, "have I shown signs of magical powers yet?"

My father exchanged a look with Mum – at the time, I was not aware that they had concernly conversed on countless nights about how I was nearing my Hogwarts years and had expressed no magical talent yet. "Er…no, Alice, you haven't." He glanced at me with raised eyebrows. "Is there something you'd like to tell us?"

I blushed, and glanced down at my sore feet. "I was looking at the canopy, and was wondering what would happen if it…"

"Fell?" Mum croaked. "Are you saying that you think you caused that thing collapsing?"

I nodded breathlessly. The threesome underneath the canopy was still struggling to crawl out. James, sitting in the row in front of us, swung around his head to see how Fred – who was sitting behind us – was reacting to this. But instead, his eye caught mine, and I suppose my embarrassed expression gave away the fact that I caused the canopy to fall. He gave me a surprised look, and I shifted lower in my seat.

Dad swooped down to embrace me proudly. "Good for you, Alice! You're magical!" His large smile faded a bit when looking back at the canopy, and he began stumbling past the people in our row to assist Luna and Rolf.

Mum reached over to give me a hug, and by the time her congratulatory words ceased, the canopy was back in an upright position, guests were returning to their seats, and the ceremony was continuing.

By the time Luna and Rolf's lips met in a kiss symbolizing their life union, and celebratory sparks exploded out of the canopy's corners, I was relieved to stand up and stretch my legs. As we proceeded to a marquee for the wedding reception, Dad whispered to me that I'd best keep the outcome of my new powers a secret. I agreed, giggling, anxious to find out if my powers would appear again somewhere at the reception. But twenty minutes into the party, I could see that my powers were retired for the day, and I began amusing myself by snapping pictures of the dancing and socializing guests.

After giving both Luna and Rolf congratulating hugs, I photographed them doing a waltz of some sort. My parents, the Potters, and every Weasley couple were also photographed dancing – except in Hermione and Ron's case, as Ron found one of Mr. Lovegood's culinary creations shockingly good, and was gobbling it down rather than dancing, much to Hermione's dismay.

After succeeding in photographing all of the other children, I set forth to try to take a picture of Michael. Throughout supper the previous night, I had attempted to persuade him into me taking his picture for my scrapbook, but he never gave in. Now, I was filled with determination to get his picture before my family and I left for London the next day. I didn't admit to myself the fact that I was forming a childhood crush on Michael, but was eager to embrace it, for I had never had a true crush on someone before.

I approached him when he was shoving Chocolate Frogs into his mouth with James as a sidekick – my old friend seemed to have become as close to Michael as I had to Liana. "You," I pointed to him promptly and straightforwardly, "are going to let me take your picture."

James snickered. "What's the matter, Mike? Are you afraid of the flash Allie's camera makes?"

My heart leapt eagerly at the sound of my nickname- it was common to hear from my parents, but I hadn't heard it from James since we moved from Godric's Hollow.

Michael scowled. "That's none of your beeswax." He turned to me reluctantly. "All right. It seems like you and Liana will be spending a lot of time together, so I might as well get used to you."

"I can take your picture?"

Michael shrugged, and nodded. "Right then."

"Could you pose by the tree over there?" I blurted out. "Please?"

Michael followed me over to the spot I was aching to take a picture by. He leaned against the tree for me, but I shook my head. That wasn't the pose I wanted. "Could you sort of…squat against it?"

Michael copied the pose I demonstrated for him, but he didn't do it the way I wanted. Hesitantly, I guided his arms and legs into the right position, afraid that he'd snap at me if I accidentally pinched him. But Michael allowed me to touch him, and as I snapped his picture, a zing surged through me.

When we two had retreated back to the reception area, James, Rose, and Albus were huddled together at the refreshment table. I made to join them, as Liana was nowhere to be found. Before I was able to enter their circle, James left it, looking slightly green in the face.

"Hello," I greeted him. Luna's wedding had seemed to bring us a bit closer than our previous friendship status. "Do you-?"

I was about to question if he knew if Mrs. Weasley had brought out the wedding cake yet, but my sentence was cut off. Before I knew it, he was giving my cheek the speediest kiss in all of reality. It would have been on my lips if I didn't turn my head at the last moment.

When he stepped away, everything from his neck to his ears bright red, I exclaimed, "James Sirius Potter! What was that?"

"I'm sorry, Alice!" James wailed. "Those two…" He pointed towards Rose and Albus, who were both laughing after failing to hold their chuckles back. "They dared me to do it! I didn't do it in a lovey-dovey way, I meant it in a…"

He searched desperately for more words – I would have laughed of his usage of the phase 'lovey-dovey', but I was too busy consciously touching the spot on my cheek where his lips had touched. The kiss had been sticky – he must have had one too many of those Chocolate Frogs. Any other nine-year-old girl would have gleefully bragged of it to her friends, but this kiss being received from my best friend, right after I had thought of a crush on Michael, just seemed too awkward and embarrassing to discuss. I merely glanced back hotly at James, his brother, and cousin, and darted away from them, seeking anyone to strike a conversation up with. Finally, I realized that I was in no mood to talk to anyone, and flopped down on a chair placed at a deserted table.

The stars eventually appeared in the wide sky, and as Christmas Day slowly slipped away, I repeatedly traced that exact spot on my cheek, turning down plates of food my mother brought me, and refusing to play the games the Weasley and Scamander children had created. I struggled to remember if I had felt a zing when James's lips were placed on my cheek – a zing similar to the one I had felt after photographing Michael. But as the wee hours began to haunt us, I found myself dozing off in an untouched plate of cake. I must have fallen asleep right there, as when I woke up, it was the next morning, and my parents were preparing to leave the Lovegoods', where Luna and Rolf had left the previous night for their honeymoon.

After a speedy breakfast, we bid our farewells to Mr. Lovegood, Michael, and Liana, for the Potters and Weasleys had left before most of us Longbottoms awoke. Even when we were a distance away from Ottery St. Catchpole and were setting our Portkey home, my mind drifted back to the previous night, when I had fallen asleep with the images of two different boys in my mind…

* * *

**Reviews are the only payment for a fanfic author. I know several of you have been waiting anxiously for the wedding segment, so I'd like to hear feedback about it. And one question - is the story realistic enough to believe?**


	8. Year

_A/N:_ _It's been awhile. I do apologize dearly. I got caught up with life, and still am struggling with writers' block for this story. But I was able to cut the chapter I was currently writing, and here I am posting it! Thanks for staying dedicated to this, and please do review!_

* * *

Chapter Seven: The Tenth Year

When returning to London after Luna's wedding, life at the Leaky Cauldron appealed boringly to me. After just several days spent at the Lovegoods', I was used to little privacy, about a dozen other children running about, and mouthwatering meals at the Burrow. I hated to go back to the obscure and grimy pub, despite the fact that I had gotten used to living in it over the course of my first few months there.

But things wouldn't be quiet and dull for long. On January 1st, 2015, Liana surprised us by arriving via Floo powder at the stroke of eight in the morning, prepared to spend the day with us before returning home. The Potters arrived about two hours after Liana's appearance, and although I was willing to reconcile with James about his doings on Christmas Day, I was hesitant to face him.

"Don't let him ruin your fun, Alice," Liana told me firmly. We were sitting on my bed, while my family and the Potters were helping themselves to an early supper in scattered parts of the flat. I had just spilled out my story to Liana – about how James was dared by Rose and Albus to kiss me, and how he succeeded at this dare. "We'll be going to school with him soon, and I think it's quite obvious that we'll all be Sorted into Gryffindor. We might as well get used to James now."

"He's just changed so much," I revealed glumly. "He didn't use to care that I was a girl."

"What did he do? Treat you like a boy?" Liana smirked as she said this, I merely giggled and tossed my pillow at her.

"No. I guess he treated me a little gently, because I was a girl, but…we did use to wrestle." I blushed uneasily and avoided eye contact with Liana.

Liana's eyes widened, but she looked a tad impressed. "_Wrestle_? Did you beat him anytime?"

I grinned at a memory from when James and I were four, and I beat him in a wrestling match by biting his hand. "Once, I remember."

"Brilliant!" Liana roared. "Look, if you don't want to see him, then how about we just spend the day outside? Your parents let you out in Diagon Alley by yourself, right?"

I rose from the bed, making my way towards the bedroom door. "Of course. Let's go ask them."

Mum and Dad granted us permission to go exploring in Diagon Alley, and without a second glance at James, Liana and I brushed outside to the brick wall behind the pub. We did not have wands to tap out the order of bricks needed to push the wall aside, but Dad had installed a second entryway off the side of the wall only weeks before he left for his first month of teaching. Liana, who had obviously had not visited Diagon Alley as much as I, pushed past me, practically bouncing with eagerness.

"Oh!" Liana drew in a breath as she entered the main street of the Alley. "It's beautiful!"

As a New Year's Day tradition, several Diagon Alley shopkeepers had set up stalls carrying their store's merchandise, at half-price, on the street curb. The closet stall to us at the moment was one from Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. Liana squealed delightedly and dashed forward to observe several of Madame Malkin's latest robe designs. Although the Flourish & Botts and Quality Quidditch Supplies stalls both appealed promisingly to me, I joined Liana at the robes' stall, only to be asked which color – sky blue or midnight blue – made her eyes more vibrant.

Once Liana had tried on at least five different-colored robes, I dragged her over to the bookshop's stall, to see if the first and now rare edition of _Hogwarts, A History _was available – I could possibly ask my father to buy it for me as a late Christmas present. Once I had racked the stall's bookshelves thoroughly, and when Liana began to cough impatiently, I decided to grant her the prize of skipping the Quidditch stall, but only when I spotted James and his brother scoping that area out together.

This was how the rest of our day was spent. The Potters finally Flooed home around eight, and Liana would have spent the entire night if Molly Weasley had not Apparated and insisted that she'd take Liana home ("Xeno might not care to have her here this late, but she really must come home!")

On January 3rd, Dad returned to Hogwarts, promising me that one day he'd send me a care package laden with culinary delicacies from the school. Instead of moping around the bar missing Dad – like I had done in the pre-Christmas months – I spent my time penning letters to Liana in Ottery St. Catchpole. About three times every month, she would visit me in London, or I would visit her. Our play dates would consists of at least one meal – usually it was lunch, but occasionally, we'd be visiting each other early or late enough to have breakfast or supper together. Besides a meal, we would create stories of two girls that we admitted were our parallel selves, these girls attending Hogwarts together.

Eventually, these heroines of ours became more lifelike than we had planned, and finally, I began writing down the tales we made, whilst Liana would sketch out pencil drawings of Alyson and Juliana (our characters that bore not only physical resemblance to us).

It was in March that Liana came to London for our first official sleepover. We spent the entire night in a pillow fort we built in my bedroom, relishing the privacy, as Eleanor had moved into Frank's room for the night. As we were munching away on the biscuits Dad had sent from Hogwarts the week before, Liana shared with me how Luna and Rolf's married life was going. "They came home from their honeymoon expedition last month, and said that they had saw herds of Nargles, but yet, they had no pictures of them! And Auntie Luna brought me an anti-Nargle bracelet all the way from a Brazilian rainforest!" She stuck out her wrist and shook the bracelet in my face.

Before I could hide the jealousy running through my veins, Liana began rummaging around in her bag consisting of pajamas and other little necessities. "Auntie Luna got you a present too…she told me to give it to you tonight…oh, where is it?"

She finally withdrew a miniature burlap sack, and passed it over to me. "Luna said it was a special truth potion that's a bit weaker than Veritaserum. This one is legal, but it'll only work for about an hour."

I slipped my hand into the sack and pulled out a tiny bottle with a blood-red liquid inside. "Oh, gosh! I love it! What do you suppose I use it for?"

Liana shrugged, adjusting her position so that she was on her back and looking up at the ceiling. "Anything, really. It'll last forever, so you don't have to use it on someone right away."

"Perhaps I'll save it for Hogwarts," I smiled slyly as I stored the potion bottle in the cedar chest at the foot of my bed, tucking it underneath Eleanor's baby quilt. "I could use it on a teacher to get answers for an exam."

Liana giggled. "We could use it with homework as well."

My mind once again wandered to the spontaneous atmosphere of Hogwarts. The upcoming summer would be one of our last before school began in September 2016. On the first of that month, Liana, James Potter, and I would all be taken to Kings' Cross Station, and our parents would guide us through the infamous absorbing wall that lead to Platform Nine and Three Quarters. We had only heard of this wall, but both Liana and I were itching to see it for ourselves.

"What do you suppose it'll be like?" I wondered aloud, tracing my finger over the stitching pattern on my pillow. "Hogwarts, I mean?"

Liana sat up to face me, eyes wide with marvel. "Just fantastic. Auntie Luna said it became like a second home to her. And I've heard so many stories about it from Victoire and Dominique Weasley." She smiled fondly. "And Ma Weasley told me all about the Gryffindor common room – you have to give a password to a portrait to get inside!"

My eyes were equally round in response. "How often does it change?"

"Ma Weasley said at least once a month."

"Do you think you'll get into Gryffindor?"

Luna glanced away timidly. "Who knows? My parents were American. They didn't even have Houses at the school they went to. At least you had a dad in Gryffindor."

"Yes, but a mum in Hufflepuff," I pointed out somewhat neurotically. "She never talks about school as much as Dad does. I think it wasn't as great as an experience for her as it was for Daddy. But what if we're in different Houses at school? We might not have any classes together!"

She patted my hand soothingly. "Don't worry about that. We still have two years to go."

Her words stayed vivid in my mind, even as we were lying on the floor later on, a voluminous duvet on top of us, and several pillows cushioning our heads and backs. It was past midnight, and Liana had fallen victim to sleep nearly an hour before. I lay awake, not helping myself by having my mind still glued on the looming future at Hogwarts, and what was there in store for me…

* * *

From February to July, my friendship with Liana grew, and we finally lived up to our 'best friend' status. Exchanging letters and photographs constantly during the months, I saw growth progress in not only Liana, but as well as Luna and Michael, all in the pictures Liana sent me. Liana wrote me that Michael had gone away to school again, and was doing well in my father's Herbology class. Meanwhile, Dad wrote me that Michael often disrupted the class, pushing around the boys and toying with the girls. I blatantly ignored Dad's comments, pretending that Michael was too smart to be bothered with Dad addressing the class as a whole.

In Luna's profile shots, her hair appeared longer, and her face glowed lividly. Marriage had done her well. On the back of the photograph, Luna had written in her slanted script, _Dear Alice: I spoke with several naturalists in Brazil about Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. Most said they don't exist, but I believe the last of them died out about a year before, _(I read this line with a smile on my face, almost being able to picture Luna's cheerful tone of voice when saying this) _and I plan to return to Brazil soon to search for them. Rolf says hello. Until we see each other again! Cheers!_

Once again, envy of Luna's love for Rolf surged through me. I was young, only to turn ten years old that August, but I knew that someday I wanted a strong presence of love inside me. It seemed so wonderful, so lasting to seal a lifelong union with another who you loved. I began to dream of my own wedding, planning to break all formal wedding traditions and begin my own. The only custom I'd keep was my father ushering me up the aisle to my fiancé – I loved Dad enough to let him escort me to true womanhood when the time came.

In April of that year, I had a minor falling-out with Liana, when my great-aunt on Mum's side came to visit us in London. Auntie Rebecca was ancient, in my opinion, and I disliked her as much as I loved my father. She stayed the whole month, and Mum threatened to take away my letter-writing privileges if I didn't spend enough time with her aunt. Although I reluctantly sat through all of Rebecca's stories of both of the Wars, which I had honestly heard enough of from Dad, I found no more time to write my friend.

However, we had another sleepover at the beginning of May, this time at her house. To my hidden disappointment, Michael was at school, and to shown disappointment, Rolf was away on another expedition. However, Luna and her father were present along with Liana, and they immediately opened their welcoming hearts to make me feel comfortable for the night. Mr. Lovegood put together several strangely named dishes for lunch, which I arrived just in time for. But oddly enough, they were all delicious, although when Luna announced that we were invited to the Burrow for supper, it provided me an excuse to eat lightly in order to save room for Molly Weasley's cooking.

Besides Molly and Arthur, Percy and Audrey were at the Burrow as well, along with their daughters Molly Jr. and Lucy. The two girls were only six and three at the time, with Lucy's birthday approaching in several weeks, but Liana and I took them under our wings, treating them almost motherly as we played in the apple orchard together before supper. When Liana casually suggested us swiping food from the kitchen before mealtime, Molly eagerly started in on telling us of her cousin James's latest prank.

I must have gotten a pitiful look on my face when I heard Molly, for no sooner after she began speaking, Liana dutifully changed the subject. As we led the little girls back to the house for dinner, I shot my best friend a grateful look over Lucy's head, and Liana smiled in response.

I did try to write James, I really did. I personally thought that if it weren't for Albus and Rose's dare, James and I would still be on slightly friendly terms. Having not seen glimpses of him since New Year's Day, I was searching for another chance to see him and perhaps reconcile, but I didn't receive my chance until August, when the entire family was invited to the Scamanders' for my tenth birthday. It was summer, and Michael and the Weasleys were home from school.

"Your hair got shorter," Michael mused as I tumbled out of the fireplace from a rough Floo ride. It was the day before my birthday, and my mother and I had arrived at the Scamanders' just now – Mum needed to look after the bar for several more days, and insisted that she'd have me as a companion. Dad, Frankie, and Eleanor had left for Ottery St. Catchpole two days before.

"I got it trimmed," I replied hotly, wishing he'd notice something other than my hair.

But he did not. Afterwards, Michael went out to the Burrow to play Quidditch with James, Albus, and Fred. Liana insisted that I'd loiter at the Scamanders' until the next day, when we'd all join together at the Burrow for a celebration dinner. Rose Weasley had returned to the bedroom in which we three shared over the time of the wedding, and Liana and I found her more outgoing than she had been at Christmastime.

"Daddy told me that I'd should be more outspoken than I was," Rose explained to us embarrassedly, and added hermetically, "Do you think I'm doing a good job at it?"

Liana brushed forward to give her a hug. "Of course!"

We three spent my first day at the Scamanders' in our bedroom, merely talking girlishly and bubbly. We were put to bed early for no particular reason, but I lay awake, the conscious thought of tomorrow being my last birthday in which I wouldn't be gathering together school supplies vivid in my mind…

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_Please review!_


	9. Presents

_A/N: Ahhhh...*ducks raw tomatoes* I know, I deserve to be slaughtered for not updating this in so long! I officially loathe writers block! But here, finally, is Chap. 8. Hope you enjoy!_

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Chapter Eight: Two Presents

I woke up on my tenth birthday with Rose and Liana grinning at me from the edge of the bed, and they threw themselves into a jolly chorus of 'Happy Birthday' as soon as they caught sight of my opened eyes. Smiling, I slipped out of bed to hug both of them, and we quickly dressed together. When we entered the kitchen downstairs, we found an entire breakfast composed of my favorite foods – sausages, eggs, and all sorts of treats.

"Happy birthday, Allie!" my father bustled into the kitchen, his face lit up with excitement. "Imagine – your last birthday that you're not preparing for school!"

Mum came to breakfast with similar words. "Happy birthday, darling. It's strange how people celebrate a birthday, isn't it? They never mentioned the pain a mother has to go through to bring her child here…" Her voice trailed off, and she glanced sideways at me. When I merely grinned, Mum laughed, and bent down to hug me.

As we were finishing our meal, wrapped parcels emerged from their hiding places – behind the stove, under the couch cushion – and found their way near my plate. I tore off the paper to find great wonders – such as a new camera from Daddy, a hairbrush from Mum, and an illustrated picture book of mythical creatures from the Scamanders and Luna As people slowly began dismissing themselves from the room to take on other matters, I was surprised when Michael came up to me with a thin, clumsily wrapped gift.

"Here you are, Alice," he handed it to me blankly. "Happy birthday."

"You got me something, Michael?"

"Why not?"

With a nosy Liana looking on over my shoulder, I carefully unwrapped the gift paper to reveal a simple photograph of a waving Michael in his school robes, with the Hogwarts Express in the background. When I looked up at the gift giver quizzically, he opened his mouth, "To make up for the picture you tried to get of me at Uncle Rolf's wedding. I know how you like to take pictures of everyone you know, so…"

Although I hadn't shared this with anyone, I had ended up keeping the horrible photo I had taken of Michael at the wedding reception, and had pasted it into my scrapbook immediately when we returned to London. Inspecting this new picture of him – obviously taken by Rolf on Michael's first day of school back in September – I found I didn't like it as much as I did the other photo. _Perhaps he never looks good in photos,_ I remember thinking.

"Er, thank you," I shared an unreadable look with Liana, and then turned embarrassedly back to her brother, 'I'll put it in my scrapbook as soon as I get home."

Michael nodded and left. Liana quickly dissolved into a fit of giggles when he was out of earshot. "My brother is such a fool! Thinking that you actually _care _about that crummy photograph!"

I managed to laugh along with her. "Yeah, stupid, isn't it? But I guess this means he sees me as a friend, eh?"

Liana shrugged. "I wouldn't know. He may talk to girls at school, but I've barely seen Mike talk to them here." She giggled again, and then continued, "What do you say we go outside and join the boys in Quidditch? I hear you have to take flying lessons your first year at school, so we might as well start practicing."

I agreed to her proposal, and the two of us headed out to the fields where Michael, the Potter boys, and Fred and Louis Weasley were, trying to come up with a solution to the odd number of Quidditch players. Liana sounded out our arrival loudly, "Hullo, boys! Mind if we make things more uneven?"

Michael groaned annoyingly, but James answered her, "One of you can play while the other's a substitute. Then it'll be three on three."

Liana pushed me ahead. "Go on, Alice, you're the birthday girl."

I stumbled over my feet as she pushed me, to trip my way over to James. He stared at me unresponsively and held out a faded broomstick. "You remember how to play, right?"

I snatched the broom away from him determinedly. "Of course."

Michael grinned musingly, calling out to his teammates, Fred and Albus. "Let's go easy on her, right then, boys? It _is_ her birthday."

"You won't need to be easy on her!" Liana called out from the sidelines. "She'll need to go easy on _you_!"

I shot my friend a look that thankfully shut her up. James and Louis mounted their brooms and levitated, and Michael's team and I followed suit. Liana hurriedly launched the Weasleys' old set of Quidditch balls into the air – we were only playing with a Quaffle to be safer and not worry our parents about being hit with Bludgers or losing Arthur Weasley's ancient and much-loved Snitch. Michael and Louis took over the positions of Keepers, using the branches of two oppositely-placed trees as goalposts, while Fred. Albus, James and I played the spots of Chasers.

The game started off in Fred and Albus's favor, them scoring twenty points off of Louis quite quickly. Soon, James received control of the Quaffle, and he and I continued passing it between us until I was close enough to Michael's goalpost to try to score. I missed, but James quickly grabbed hold of the ball to toss it successfully through the branches.

He and I continued this system of unspoken teamwork throughout the game, to lead to a two hundred to one fifty victory. Liana never got a chance to play, but she was bouncing on the grass excitedly as we returned to ground. She rushed forward to hug me as I got off my broom, and exclaimed, "That was amazing! You and James were amazing!"

Michael slipped off his broom breathlessly, scowling to himself. Glancing away from him, I said to Liana, "It was mostly James, I swear. I missed most goals when I tried to score."

James looked over, smiling graciously. "Thanks, Allie." Once again with my nickname, my eyebrows rose questioningly. "But you were pretty good yourself defending Louis's posts. Not bad for a girl."

Remembering him calling me 'just a girl' so long ago, I beamed happily at this comment. "Thanks."

We were then called in for a buffet lunch at the Burrow. After filling our plates and sitting at assorted spots in the Weasleys' living room, Liana and I found ourselves conversing with the boys more than usual. Michael had exiled himself from us "younger kids" and was sitting with Teddy Lupin and Victoire Weasley, trying to get a word in among their two-sided conversation. We didn't mind, and I grew more and more excited when James and I talked together almost as freely and openly as we had back in Godric's Hollow as neighbors and best friends. I began seeing it as a birthday miracle, although there was still a certain barrier there between our exchanges of words.

When birthday celebrations ended that evening and the Potters left for home early because of another obligation, James smiled friendlily at me before he left. "Happy birthday, Alice. I'll write you soon about those Quidditch techniques I was telling you about, okay?"

"Sure!"

I felt like I was on the top of the world that day. I had received two unexpected birthday presents – Michael's picture and James's quasi-friendship. And somehow, I knew which one I valued more.

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_A/N: Review for the poor, guilty author? I promise to update sooner, I've started work on chapter nine already!_


	10. Time

_A/N: I told you I'd be back soon!_

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Chapter Nine: Times Change

As promised, James did write me about Quidditch strategies and ways to score a perfect goal. I replied to his letter with a word of thanks, and a full brood of London news. He wrote back with the latest Godric's Hollow brewing, and the well-beings of my former neighbors who I hadn't thought of in the longest time. We continued to correspond regularly, and soon, nearly every week, I wrote to both him and Liana Scamander. There was still some uncomfortable feelings located in James's and my letters to each other. We didn't have the full friendship that was had in Godric's Hollow, but we were close to it.

Meanwhile, in September of 2015, soon after Dad left for work, I received word from Liana that Michael had returned to Hogwarts for his second year. When I shared this with my mother, she shuddered. "Second year was one of the worst for me."

"Why?"

"Well, I don't know if Daddy has ever told you this, but…" Mum hesitated a bit, but continued bravely. "In our second year at school, a place called the Chamber of Secrets was opened, and there was something in there that went on to hurt Muggle-born students."

"So…" I was beginning to rack my brain of the adults I knew had Muggle parents. "Mrs. Weasley – Hermione – she…?"

"Yes, she was hurt. So was my friend Justin – you remember him, don't you?"

I nodded. This friend would often visit us at the Leaky Cauldron.

"And then the scariest part came…James's mother was taken into the Chamber by the thing that was hurting everyone."

"But she's not Muggle-born!"

"No, but she was doing something that caused her to be taken there. It's difficult to explain, really, and I don't know if I should tell you more…" Mum looked pale, always having avoided talking about her school life to my siblings and me.

"Please do, Mummy," I placed my hand on her knee, with a begging face.

"Oh, well, it ended happily. James's dad saved her from the Chamber, and Ron Weasley was there too, but he was trapped in another area, I think."

"Is that what made Mr. and Mrs. Potter fall in love?" I rattled on.

"No, no, they were only in their second and first years then."

This was a story that had not been told to me by my father or Mr. Potter, who often had shared school tales with James and I back in Godric's Hollow. I was intrigued that they had all faced scariness even at the beginning of their schooling. At the time, I only knew the later stories, the ones that occurred when they were in their sixth and seventh years. I also knew of the cause of my late grandparents' memory losses, and Dad and Mr. Potter each being a contender for the Prophecy's words. Although the adults preferred to avoid it mostly, I found it interesting and couldn't wait to learn of it in school the following year.

In November, we received a surprise visit from the Scamanders, sans Michael. Mum had just filled Luna and Rolf's goblets with firewhiskey at the bar when Luna politely pushed aside her drink. "No thank you, Hannah. I shouldn't be drinking much now. You see, I'm expecting. We're three months along already."

Luna said this so calmly and airily that my mother nearly dropped the pitcher of pumpkin juice she was pouring into my goblet, Liana's, and Frankie's and Eleanor's. Setting aside the pitcher, Mum exclaimed excitedly, "You're pregnant!"

Both Rolf and Luna grinned, nodding at her words. My mother hurried around the bar to hug Luna, while I turned eagerly to Liana. "Did you know?"

Liana smiled widely and nodded. "They swore me to secrecy! I wanted to tell you so _bad_!"

We quickly explained Luna having a baby to Frank and Eleanor, then seven and four. I then slid off my bar stool to approach the happy couple. "I'm so excited for you, Luna. I love babies."

Luna beamed at me. "Me too, little Alice. They say a house with a baby prevents Nargle attacks, you know."

I soaked in her words like I was a sponge. "That's lucky for you!"

The Scamanders began visiting us for the duration of Luna's pregnancy from then on. Each time they came, I noted a growth in Luna's stomach's bulge, and was proud to share my observation with her. They came for Christmas, Michael and Mr. Lovegood being with them this time. Our entire holiday dinner was spent discussing names and colors for nurseries.

Then, as Dad began passing out the pieces of pie Mum had just sliced, Rolf rose from his seat, "We've been waiting to tell you all this, and now's the best time." He glanced down at his wife, who smiled lovingly at him. "Just last week Luna and I went to the Healer's and learned that we're expecting twins!"

The table's occupants broke out in a roar, cheering and applauding, and leaning over to touch Luna's bulge, hoping to feel two different kicks this time. The future mother just sat there, smiling graciously at the ones she loved. The glow of motherhood had arrived early for Luna, her face radiant already.

Although it was evident Luna was excited for her children's arrival, it was also clear that carrying them wore her out. As we finished dessert that Christmas night of 2015, I placed down my fork and said to her confidently, "It'll all be worth it, Luna. Your babies will love you for keeping them in your stomach for so long."

That made Luna laugh, and she warily smiled at me. "Thank you, Alice. That is what I needed to hear."

January 1st, 2016, brought my family the annual visit of the Potters. This time, James, Albus, and my brother Frankie included me in their bar-located game of flying around on their broomsticks. After supper that night, James presented me with a late Christmas present.

"What is it?" I asked eagerly before opening it.

James remained firm. "You have to open it to see."

I finally ripped apart the wrapping paper, and saw a copy of the latest book on the market, _Quidditch Through the Ages, Part II. _I had been eyeing it ever since coming across it in Flourish & Blotts several weeks before. Grinning at my friend, I gave him my thanks.

Things were surprisingly looking up. I was back in touch with James, still managed to write to Liana, and Luna's stomach was growing by what seemed like the minute. Before my father left for Hogwarts after holidays, he presented me with a personalized stationary to use to write him. My initials, _AL__, _were printed on the top of each paper, the gold lettering shining brightly. Hugging Dad tightly, I promised to begin writing to him on the stationary the moment he left, so a letter would arrive shortly after he came to Hogwarts.

I also used the paper tablet to dictate letters to Liana. I received her response to my first personally-designed letter quicker than expected, to find her letter on her own personalized paper, with the initials _LS _on the top in bright purple. I found myself disheartened at this sight – for once, I wanted something my best friend didn't have, and the stationary clearly was not it.

But when Liana dropped in for a visit in March of that year, my envy of her belongings vaporized, and I found myself delighted to se her again. She was already eleven years old and didn't hesitate to showing me her Hogwarts acceptance letter, she having received it on January 17th, the anniversary of her birth. However, I was not going to receive my letter until mid-July or earlier, the time where all August-born children were informed of their acceptance.

"Isn't it exciting, Alice?" she waved the creamy-colored paper in my face once more. "I'm going to Hogwarts! Oh, I wish you didn't get these on your birthday, you'll have to wait until July for yours!"

I weakly ignored this comment, and changed the subject promptly. "Have you sent in your accepting letter yet?"

Liana snorted. "No, I have plenty of time. They're not due until July 31st; I'll get it in sometime before then."

She fell down upon my bed, wearing a dazed expression. "I still think I'm dreaming. Uncle Rolf's taking me to get a wand as soon as he gets back from his expedition." She peeked up at me with vast eyes. "I'll have a _wand_. Can you believe it?"

I plopped down next to her. "No. I'm still wondering about how my dad'll treat me in Herbology class – don't you think it'll be a little awkward?"

Liana nodded in agreement. "Yes, people will think he'll favor you."

"Do you think people won't like me because my father's one of the professors?"

Liana turned to me calmly. "Maybe. But I'll know the truth and I'll be your friend no matter what they say."

With her words in mind, I felt more confident towards the upcoming school year. Throughout the following weeks, my mother absentmindedly shared with me news of other children receiving acceptance letters.

"Fred Weasley got his letter yesterday…"

"Did you hear that Mr. Thomas's middle son has been accepted?"

"...Do you remember the Corners visiting the pub awhile back? Their oldest daughter was accepted to Hogwarts just last month…"

All of these announcements were making me even more anxious to receive my letter. The only other August birthday I knew of was James's, and I shared with him my irritability through writing about it to him. He responded by sympathizing and sharing similar feelings.

But finally, a distraction arrived. In the early evening of April 14th, 2016, a frazzled Arthur Weasley Apparated in our living room, a sweeping smile on his face. "Luna's had the twins! Two boys – just hours old!"

This called for my mother shutting down the Leaky Cauldron the next day, for her to take my siblings and me to Ottery St. Catchpole to visit Luna and her new sons. We arrived via Portkey right on Mr. Lovegood's doorstep on April 15th, to be greeted by Rolf, wearing an incandescent smile. "Hello, hello! Come and meet the boys, they're just marvelous!"

He led us up the curved stairway to the bedroom he slept in with Luna. In the room, we found Liana and Michael, who was home for Easter holidays, sitting off to the side with Mr. Lovegood. Luna was resting in the massive, circular bed. I barely recognized her at first glance, because she appeared more jaded than I had ever seen her before. Unmistakable dark circles were evident underneath her eyes, and her usually well-combed and flowing hair seemed lank and dull.

But what captured our attention were the two identical bassinets positioned next to the bed. Four-year-old Eleanor was the first to haste up to the bassinets, and peer into them. I believe that with her young mind, she never registered until then that Luna was going to have two children at once. The look on her face when seeing the two babies was priceless, and she made us laugh when questioning our mother about the twosome. "Mummy, where'd the other baby come from?"

It was my turn to see the boys lastly, and when I did, they took my breath away. I had expected their skin to be blotched and reddish, remembering how Eleanor looked shortly after she was born. But I found the Scamander twins with lush, glowing skin, and even facial features.

"Oh, what are their names?" I gushed out to no one in particular.

"This is Lysander Timothy," Rolf motioned towards the baby in the left bassinet, "and over there is Lorcan Xenophilius, the big brother."

"They're gorgeous, aren't they?" Liana progressed from behind, adding boastfully, "I've held them both already."

"I don't see why she wanted to," Michael chimed in from his corner seat, looking bored. "They were crying like mad when she did."

"Would you like to take a turn holding them, Alice?" Luna spoke up meekly. I was beginning to forget she was even present, as she had been so quietly reserved.

I nodded readily. "Yes, please!"

Mum hurried me into a vacant chair and lifted one of the twins – I later learned that it was Lysander – from his bassinet. Rolf guided my arms into the proper baby-holding position, and my mother then gently placed Lysander in my grip. "Keep your arm underneath his head, Allie," Mum cautiously directed. "Avoid the slightest movement, and stay steady."

I felt myself stiffen at her rigid words, and nerves began to come alive. As if the baby could sense my uncomfortable state, Lysander broke out wailing, wiggling around in my hold. Rolf immediately swooped down to lift his son up and calm him down.

"The baby doesn't like you, Alice," Frankie announced gleefully.

"Hush," my mother shot him a look, then turned back to the new parents. "Perhaps Lorcan will feel better with her?"

Rolf picked up the second son, and placed him in the same position my arms were in with Lysander. This baby reacted better to my unfamiliar face. His eyelids opened to reveal sky-blue pupils, and somehow in this new face, easiness and friendship was evident. I could feel Lorcan's body relax in my hold, and my own body eased as well. Beaming, I looked up at my mother proudly.

Mum smiled back. "Excellent, Alice, like a mother's touch."

Frankie then demanded to hold one of the babies, much to Michael's masculine dismay. He eventually left the room, while Liana and we Longbottom children began taking turns holding Lysander and Lorcan. Luna smiled tiredly down upon us from her perch of pillows, while Rolf, my mother, and Mr. Lovegood supervised our behavior with the twins. When Rolf shooed us little ones out of the room for the babies to have a private feeding, we four received permission from Mr. Lovegood to stroll over to the Burrow for a visit.

We arrived at the Weasley residence to find only Arthur and Molly there, which was rare for their home – there always seemed to be children and grandchildren running about on their property. But we were pleased to see them anyhow, as they were happy to see us. We ate lunch with them, and then walked back over to the Scamanders' to find our mother ready to leave for London.

The following months were full of traveling to see Lorcan and Lysander settle into their new life. Even though we visited weekly, Lysander still became upset upon seeing me, while Lorcan always seemed to associate comfort with my image. I, too, preferred being with Baby Lorcan over his brother, as the former treated me more normally.

Soon, it was July, and my father had returned home for the summer. Each day, he scanned through the mail rapidly, then say to me, "It's not here yet, Allie, but mark my words, it'll come tomorrow." Most times, he was incorrect. But one day, he finally predicted right, and I had received my Hogwarts acceptance letter.

It arrived on a Saturday, when the pub was closed. Mum broke out a new pitcher of pumpkin juice to celebrate, and I was already asking Dad about class schedules and how big the Great Hall really was.

The very next day, we were given word of James Potter getting his letter as well, and Dad excitedly made plans with Harry and Ginny Potter to meet up with them in Diagon Alley next month, to take care of supply shopping with both James and I. I found it unfair that I had to wait until August to buy my wand and be measured for robes when Diagon Alley was literally my backyard, but told myself that the shopping would be more fun with James and his parents. Times were changing, and they were all for the better.

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_A/N: please review!_


	11. Reconnection

Chapter Ten: Reconnection

My eleventh birthday could have been a holiday unto itself. The pub was open that day, and I had groggily stumbled down the stairs to the first floor to find several of our regular customers in the bar with my parents, all of them beaming widely.

"Happy birthday, Alice!" Their well wishes echoed off the walls.

"Allie!" Mum rushed to the front of the crowd, taking my hand. "Mr. Ollivander over here has a special present for you…"

Still half-asleep, I found myself face-to-face with Ollivander Jr., who had taken over his father's wand business when he died several years after the Second War. "Hello, Mr. Ollivander," I fought the urge to yawn right in his face.

"Happy birthday, Miss Longbottom," the man smiled kindly. "I suppose you're wondering what I've got for you?"

"Yes," I lied.

"Mr. Ollivander is letting you come to his shop before it opens to buy your wand," my mother burst out excitedly.

That was enough to wake me up completely. I let out a squeal that was completely unorthodox of me, and boldly ran forward to hug the wand maker before restraining myself. He merely laughed, and patted my shoulder graciously.

"Daddy!" I whirled back around to face my father. "Oh, will you come with me to get my wand?"

For a spilt second, my mother's face fell, but I hardly noticed, bouncingly waiting for Dad's reply. He seemed to glance sideways at Mum for a moment, who waved him off from behind me.

Grinning unreachably, Dad nodded. "Of course, Alice, I'll be happy to come with you."

I then heaved myself up to a bar stool to shovel down the porridge Mum had made for me, tossed her my thanks for breakfast, and hurried back upstairs to dress. In our bedroom, my sister still slept soundly in the next bed, completely oblivious to my ruckus and loud actions.

When I had thumped my way down the stairs back to the pub, daily activity had resumed, and Mum was busily serving patrons drinks and meals. Dad and Mr. Ollivander were waiting for me by the back door, and I made a beeline for them, clutching onto Dad's hand. I hadn't done this for quite some time, and it felt juvenile, me being someone headed off to school next month. But somehow, I knew Dad appreciated it as we maneuvered our way past the brick way to Diagon Alley.

The hubbub of Diagon Alley pressured me to keep a more severe hold on Dad's hand, with the crowds being thick with parents and their schoolchildren. I was not allowed to search for any other school supplies, as we had to wait for the Potters' arrival the next day. But as Mr. Ollivander led us to his shop, which he unlocked with his set of keys before entering, the anxiety to buy other things diminished. The major key to my magical life – a wand – was soon to be in my hands.

The wand shop was intoxicated by musty air, with evident dust nearly everywhere you turned – Molly Weasley would have had a fit. About half a dozen shelves were squeezed into the back space of the front room, and every shelf was filled to the brim with boxes, apparently each filled with a wand.

"You are right-handed, Alice?" Mr. Ollivander made his way up the first shelf aisle, running his finger along the stacked boxes.

"Yes." I broke apart from my father's grip, walking a little closer to the shelves.

The man drew a measuring tape from among his robes and measured my right arm, starting from my thumb and ending at my elbow. He murmured a number to himself, and then began a search among the shelves.

"Here…" he emerged from a dark corner, lifting a figure from its box. "Nine and a half inches, flexible, made with redwood and dragon heartstring." When I stared at the wand helplessly, Ollivander sighed impatiently. "Just give it a flick!"

I obliged, and in response, the flower vase on Ollivander's desk shattered. I blushed heavily, and set the wand back in its box quickly. Dad, flustered, began digging around in his wallet for money to pay off for the broken vase. But Ollivander waved his actions off.

"No, no, Longbottom, it happens every time. They all say that a glorious light is supposed to gleam when the wand picks its owner, but breaking of things can happen too."

"So…that was good?" Dad's eyebrow cocked up questioningly, and I bit my lip to keep from laughing at his expression.

"Yes, I suppose," Ollivander sat himself down at his equally dusty desk. "Will you be taking it?"

Dad glanced at me for the answer, and I peered into the box once more. I had felt nothing with that wand in my grip – I was certain from all those stories I had been told that you _had_ to feel something when holding a wand. Hesitantly, I opened my mouth, "May I try out another, please?"

Ollivander breathed out an impatient air, but lifted the box on his desk to place it away. When he returned, his eyebrows were knit together in annoyingness, but he handed me the new box with a somewhat polite tone. "Thirteen inches, swishy, made with cherry and unicorn tail hair."

I picked up this wand expecting more, and then I felt what I was waiting for. An uplifting in my inner body was felt, and I jovially gave this wand a flick. Now, the dead flower that had been in Ollivander's vase became youthful, with more rich and vibrant color.

"It's brilliant!" I announced. "This is the one!"

Ollivander broke into applause, probably at the thought of yet another successful sale. Dad grinned at me, and once again started picking out several Sickles from his coin purse. As he slapped the money down upon the desktop, I carefully packed our purchase into its box.

When we returned to the busyness of the streets, Dad brought me to the ice cream parlor for me to pick out my own treat – "A surprise present," he told me. Once I received my strawberry cone and we were leaving the shop, Dad took the box from me, peering in on the wand. "Cherry and unicorn hair…my old wand was the same."

I brightened up immediately. "Really?"

"It was your grandfather's wand…and my grandmother gave it to me," Dad appeared nostalgic, but then turned uncomfortable, "but then it was broken."

"How?"

Dad answered me with no pain clear-cut in his face. "At the Department of Mysteries at the end of my fifth year."

I recognized this setting. "Where Mr. Potter's godfather was killed?"

"Yes."

We walked in silence for a few more paces, and then I spoke again. "Dad, do your students ever ask about…what you did?"

He continued walking, an incomprehensible visage on his face. "They have History of Magic for that. Some of the older students are cheeky enough to say that I think I deserve more fame than James's dad…" To this, my father shook his head. "It's not true. What I did wasn't for myself, at any time. They're just silly teenagers – don't pay attention to any of them when you're at school."

His reply caused me to think of his publicity in past years. Dad rarely gave interviews after the first-year anniversary of the war, as Mum had told me, and although he had published his own books – one a how-to guide on raising magical plants, the other an autobiography several friends pushed him into writing – I barely knew my father as a symbol of fame. I remembered once searching for a now-unknown item in our attic back in Godric's Hollow, and then coming across a faded magazine that was opened to a page that smelled of age.

Slapped upon this certain page had been a picture obviously taken with a Muggle camera, oddly, as the figures in it was still. The photo since was always etched in my memory – dated September of 2007, it showed a man coming out of a bright white house. He was carrying a little girl dressed in a purple sundress, her hair messy and flyaway.

I recalled showing it to my mother, who'd snorted when seeing it, but her face had eased at the sight of the two people. She had read me the photo's caption: _War hero Neville Longbottom leaves legendary Harry Potter's home with daughter Alice, 2. _Up to my eleventh birthday, that picture was the only time I saw my father receive any recognition as a hero outside of his books and old interviews. It was strange, really, hearing people call him that. When I looked at him, I only saw Dad, not the seventeen-year-old who destroyed a Horcrux and helped students survive through a treacherous time at Hogwarts.

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Early the next day, James and his parents arrived via Portkey at the Leaky Cauldron, and he, his parents, Dad, and I set off into Diagon Alley together with our supply lists in tow. The Potters firstly separated from us to buy James's wand, and they were delayed longer than necessary in Ollivander's shop – when they returned, Mr. Potter shared that the wand maker realized who his visitors was and began thanking James's father for what he did for Ollivander Sr. during wartime.

After that, the real shopping begun. With little time to converse together about the upcoming changes in our life, James and I were whisked off to Madame Malkin's to be measured for school robes. After being prodded and poked by clumsy assistants' pins, we were declared finished there and then moved on to Eeylops Owl Emporium, for James to select an owl as a late birthday present from his parents. He chose a tawny, young owl, naming him Damon.

The next stop was Flourish & Blotts, to purchase our first year spellbooks and other mandatory textbooks. It was here when I disappeared into the shelves after gathering together my needed books, to search for the photography book I had spotted previously. I planned to buy it with my birthday money for James, as he had shared with me his Quidditch secrets. The one way I could thank him was share with him one of my hobbies.

Soon, we had purchased everything needed, and were sitting ourselves down inside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor for banana splits. As the waitress left after scribbling down our orders, I presented James with his birthday gift from me, unwrapped and still smelling of the bookstore.

"Wow, thanks a lot, Alice!" He skimmed through the book, looking interested, but it'd be just like him if he was saying so just to be polite.

As James slipped the book into a bag that carried his items, his mother smiled at me. "You're excited for school then, Alice?"

I nodded eagerly. "Yes, a lot! It'll just be so fun…and I'll have Liana with me all the time…and James." I added his name unknowingly, wondering if I'd sound too odd saying so. Now grinning, I continued somewhat embarrassedly, "Having my dad there too won't be so bad either."

My father and James's parents chuckled at that, passing among them a special look only they could understand. James suddenly became quite interested in shuffling his chair across the tiled floor, ears burning red.

The silence between us eleven-year-olds broke when the Muggle jukebox in the corner of the shop began sounding, and the opening bars of a song – ironically Muggle as well – played. I smiled when hearing the first few words – I had heard this song play once on the streets of Muggle London, when Mum took me on a tour of the city shortly after we moved there.

"…Somebody to love…" I sung under my breath, hoarse and off-key. "Can anybody find me…"

"…Somebody to love…" James began singing along, being as terrible as I was. But I giggled at his weak voice, and for several more words, we continued singing together. As the song ended, we were both fighting off a heavy case of laughter. James smiled. "That'll be our song from now on. Whenever we hear it, we _have_ to sing along."

"No matter where we are," I added strictly. "Oh, what House do you want to be in?"

This started off our livid conversation of the day. While our parents talked among themselves quietly, James and I spoke animatedly of Hogwarts and its inner essence. We even found ourselves talking of memories occurring in Godric's Hollow when we were younger. I was nearly bouncing in my seat. I now knew it for sure – I had my best friend back. Liana was still, in a way, a _different _kind of best friend, but James had always been my best friend before her.

We departed later that day with hearty good-byes, giving each other well wishes until we saw each other on September 1st at King's Cross. Energetically sharing my new cache of school-related treasures with pub goers, I promised myself that I'd manually count down the days until September hit. The newest adventure was nearing, and I couldn't wait.

* * *

Dad left for school the last week in August, and I didn't even bother bidding him good-bye, because for once, the next time I'd meet him wouldn't be in December, but in the following week.

Liana arrived to stay with us for the last few days of summer holidays. Each night, we stayed up talking until the wee hours, discussing school uniforms, Houses, and the classes we'd take. We'd stick together throughout our first year no matter what, as we swore to each other. If we were in different Houses, Liana herself would concoct a plan for us to be united in the same one. If one of us stayed at school for Christmas holidays and the other didn't, we'd write each other every day of the break. We were prepared for the worst, but hoped for the best.

August 31st, 2016, seemed to be the longest day of my life. Liana and I struggled to remain awake as long as possible, whispering back and forth to each other, until my mother finally barged into my bedroom at half past one, squinting her tired eyes at us, "Girls! _Bed!"_

Because of our long night, Liana and I both nearly overslept, but it was five-year-old Eleanor who was given the job of flopping her body down upon us until we woke. My friend and I quickly dressed in Muggle clothing – jeans and sweaters, which we normally wore anyways. We would slip our school robes over this attire later, on the Hogwarts Express.

We all ate a hurried breakfast at the bar – Liana, my brother and sister, and I. When hearing of Liana and I entering school for the first time today, customers came up to us, giving us their best wishes. At half past ten, Mum came out from the stockroom, untying her bar apron in a rushed manner. "All right, girls, Frankie and Ellie will just get their coats and then we'll walk you down to the station…"

"Mum," I fought back a blush. "King's Cross is right down the road. Liana and I can get there ourselves."

"But it's your first time," Mum's face remained calm. "You would have wanted your father to come with you, so I don't see why I'm not allowed to come."

"You have customers," I gestured to the morning crowd that was scattered throughout the pub. "You shouldn't leave them."

"Nonsense, Arty can take care of them!" Mum nodded towards the assistant manager, a young wizard in his late twenties who was cleaning out tankards from the previous night.

Liana normally didn't act so subdued, but that day, she leaned over to me, whispering, "Just let your family come, Alice. It'll be nice having someone see us off."

I sighed. "Right then. Let's get our things." She and I dashed to the back room, to lug out our initialed trunks that contained clothing, schoolbooks, and our wands. Plus, Liana took from one of the room's higher shelves her newly purchased owl's cage – in it rested a lovely snowy owl, which she had named Belle.

We emerged from the stockroom to find my mother and siblings in their coats, waiting patiently at the door. Liana began walking towards them, while I hesitated a bit before following her.

"Ready, girls?" my mother beamed excitedly. "Got everything?"

We nodded in response; the butterflies in our stomachs were more alit than ever.

"Right then, we're off!" Mum pushed open the front door to the pub, sunlight spilling into the room. The customers behind us cheered and waved good-bye, and Liana and I took one step closer to our new lives.

* * *

_A/N: Please review!_


	12. Home

_A/N: I'm so sorry! I've been terrible about updating. Hopefully, this makes up for it._

* * *

Chapter Eleven: Welcome to Your New Home

September 1st that year was a day full of sunshine, warm breezes, and a clear, blue sky, all of which were quite unusual for London. When Liana pointed out the lovely weather to me, she grinned knowingly, "It's an omen, I know it, we'll have good luck today."

We received some stares from Muggle commuters as we walked past, dragging our trunks along with us, and it'd be lying if I said Belle wasn't attracting much attention. Mum advised to just pretend we were one of these passerbies, and then we'd feel like we blended in. A sigh of relief was emitted from every one of us when we reached King's Cross Station.

Passing through the general entryway, an attendant gave Liana and I trolley carts to place our belongings on top of. Strategically setting down our trunks so they were guaranteed not to slip off, Mum led us to the passageway to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.

The five of us huddled together after stopping about nine feet away from the wall. "Now, girls, rule one about getting to the platform," Mum told us in a hushed voice, "is that you always have to keep a watchful eye on anyone nearby. You have to time yourself perfectly to make it through."

"I've seen Michael do it," Liana was hopping excitedly from one foot to the other. "Mrs. Longbottom, may I go first? To show Alice?"

"Yes, dear, I suppose so."

Liana rolled her trolley a few inches ahead, her eyes shifting back and forth between the passing Muggles. When there seemed to be a clearing of people on both sides of her, she charged forward without any hesitation, surging into the brick wall, which looked dangerously hard from my angle.

With Liana through, Mum turned to me with a smile, her two careworn hands clasped onto by Frankie and Eleanor. "Are you ready, Allie?"

I unsuccessfully swallowed away the knot in my throat and nodded, beginning to push my cart forward to a starting position.

"We'll come right after you!" Mum assured me. "Good luck!"

Trying to block the image in my head of me slamming head-first into the wall, I began running, my eyes shut tightly. When I felt no crash, I opened them, and my jaw dropped.

I was on a platform away from the Muggles, and I knew because adults were passing me in multi-colored robes, and I spotted several teenagers wearing the black Hogwarts robes. I was so engrossed in these outfits that I barely noticed the steam engine until it let out a lasting whistle. I then looked up to find the most beautiful locomotive I had seen in my life – ever since my family and I had picked up my father here for Christmas holidays so long ago, I had forgotten how sprawling and gorgeous the Hogwarts Express had been. The air was smoky and chatter-filled, and it was a sight I loved immediately.

"Alice!" Liana appeared at my side, and I wondered if she had been there all along. "Oh, isn't it lovely?" She motioned towards the train with a huge smile on her face, and I grasped onto her hand and squealed along with her.

Mum and my siblings then materialized out of thin air, or so it seemed, and my mother was beaming as she appeared. "Coming through is always a rush, isn't it?" she said with a laugh. She glanced over the tops of people's heads, then peered back down at my friend and me. "I see the Potters over there, girls, why don't we go and say hello?"

Just as we were all about to step forward towards our friends, a lady came to my mother's side, hugging her and talking animatedly. Mum smiled as if she knew this woman, and gestured to Liana and I to keep on moving.

When the two of us approached the Potters, Ginny was laying down the law with James. "If I get any letters about mischief you caused…"

"_Mum_," I could see James roll his eyes. "I promise I'll stay out of trouble…"

"Hello, James!" Liana interrupted brightly, seeing no wrong in barging into this mother-son conversation.

Both Ginny and James looked up, Ginny smiling back at us, and James scowling quietly. "Hello Alice, Liana," Mrs. Potter's kind eyes shone at us. "Exciting, isn't it?"

We nodded actively. Behind his mother, James smirked a little – not because he found us smirk-worthy, but to make us laugh. He succeeded and we bit our lips to hide our giggles from his mum.

Ginny caught the last two seconds of her son's grimace, and shot him a look, then joined her husband and two other children over by the train tracks. We three remainders exchanged awkward glances until Liana brightly struck up a conversation. "What House are you hoping to be in, James?"

James smirked a little. "Gryffindor, obviously. I've got to keep up the family reputation, don't I?"

Liana nodded as if she hadn't been the one asking him his preferred House, but the one already knowing of the desire. "You're better off than me and Alice here. My parents didn't even come to Hogwarts!"

Liana and Michael were the only connections I ever had to American wizards. Rolf and his brother, my friends' father, were half American and half English, both raised in the States and attending the brother school to the Salem Witches Institute. The brothers had moved to England together when both had graduated school, and it seemed as if their lives fell into place from there, with each meeting their future wives quickly after settling in.

James was scrutinizing my face. "What was your mum, Alice? Not a Gryffindor?"

Something pinged inside of me as I heard this, and worries filled my mind once again. "She was a Hufflepuff…maybe I'll be one too."

Both Liana and James grew quiet; both appeared sorry for my spilt thoughts on my Sorting future. Luckily, the mood was quickly reversed as the train's whistle sounded, and my mother and James's parents came to our sides.

"This is it, children…" Mum's eyes were glazed, and she smiled wistfully at me. "You're really leaving…" She shared a knowing glance with Mrs. Potter, laughing a little. "I still remember Alice and James playing in the mud naked together as babies."

"_Mum_!" My voice cracked, and James blushed a ferocious red. Liana was clenching her jaw, but I still detected a giggle from her direction.

"Oh, we're sorry," James's mother still grinned reminiscently as she gave me a squeeze of the arm. "Good luck at school, dear."

"Thank you."

Ginny said her good-byes to Liana, and then once again tugged James away to give him another stern warning of avoiding prank-pulling at school. My mum faced my friend and me, eyes already tearing up.

"Thanks for everything, Mrs. Longbottom," Liana cheerily stepped forward and hugged her. "See you at Christmas."

"You're welcome, Liana," Mum beamed at her and stroked her cheek. "If you see Michael on the train, tell him I said hello." She peeked over her shoulder one last time. "I haven't seen Luna or Rolf…?"

"Oh, Mike came here with a friend," Liana bent down to Eleanor's eye level to tickle her one last time, then playfully slugged my brother's arm. "But I'll tell him."

My good-byes were next. To apologize for my behavior beforehand, I hugged Mum fully and tightly, kissing her cheek. "I love you."

"I love you too, Alice," Mum still kept me in her embrace, as if unwilling to let go. "Have fun and do your best, all right?"

"I will…" Our hug broke apart and biting my lip, I glanced up at her and whispered, "Mum, will you be upset if I don't make Hufflepuff?"

She paused, but brushed off my question with a confident smile. "Of course not, Allie. Whatever house you'll be will make me happy, and it should satisfy you too."

"Okay," my voice's tone still held uncertainty that Mum didn't notice. Hands shaking slightly, I hugged Frankie and Eleanor good-bye, and as Liana and I neared the edge of the train platform together, dragging our trolleys along, my family disappeared in the thick of the crowd. James, too, was also unseen.

A group of older, chatting students pushed past, fumbling up the steps onto the train. We waited for them to board, and then handed over our luggage to the porter before we faced each other hesitantly.

"Are you ready?" My heart pounded deeply in my throat.

"No." The usual dauntless Liana was suddenly wan and wide-eyed.

I couldn't help but giggle. "Neither am I." I outstretched my hand to her. "Together, perhaps?"

She nodded in agreement. We joined hands and each lifted a foot, stepping over the gap between the platform and the train and aiming for the latter's entrance…

As my foot made contact with the metal of the train's platform, I felt jerked back to the edge and a screech let out from my throat. A conductor appeared from the train compartment, snatching me towards the secure locomotive's floor. Whirling back around, I could hear a commotion and a bang sound from the other platform. My jaw dropped as I spotted Liana sprawled on the platform in a confused heap, several parents surrounding her with raised tones.

"Liana!" I made to hop back off the train and dash over to her, but the conductor grasped at my sleeve.

"No, no, little miss. You see, your friend must not have sent in her acceptance owl on time. Anyone who didn't is considered an intruder on the train."

I yanked my arm away from him, scolding. "How can you tell she's an intruder?"

Another person appeared in my side vision, someone still on the other platform. The voice that spoke was familiar. "An Intruder Charm was placed on the train after the War, Alice."

Whipping back around – I was beginning to feel dizzy – my eyes enlarged as I saw my father there, assisting Liana onto her feet. "Dad?"

"'Morning, Longbottom," the conductor tipped his hat at Dad and jumped over to the platform to shake his hand. "So what's the case with this little one?" Next to him, Liana's face burned tomato red, a trail of tears visible on her cheeks. With the conductor off the train, I also sneaked off onto the platform, running to my friend's side concernedly.

Dad shushed the man, clearing away the throb of parents around us. "I know this girl, Hank, let me handle it…"

"Dad…" I added plead to my voice, but my father still didn't answer me, turning to Liana.

"Do you remember when you sent in your acceptance owl, Liana?"

She sniffed, glancing at her feet guiltily. "I thought I did on July 30th exactly…"

Dad shook his head. "Apparently not then…" He withdrew from his robes a yellowed, boundless piece of parchment. "Your name isn't on the list of our new students."

Liana's tears welled even more. "But-!"

"Come with me, little lady," Hank the conductor began leading her away. "You'll be riding up by the driver."

"She's still coming to school?" I perked, and my father finally looked my way, eyes unreadable.

"Technically, yes," Dad placed his hand on his shoulder, almost nudging me back towards the train. "But as a student, maybe not."

"Daddy…"

"I'll see you there, Alice," Dad gave me a quick hug, and helped me climb back onto the Hogwarts Express. "Go catch up with James…"

Just as quickly as he appeared, he Disapparated with a loud puff. Almost immediately, the train began chugging down the tracks, and the thin audience that remained in the station waved at the multicolored heads poking out of windows.

Another conductor came to my side. "Miss, do you need assistance finding a seat?"

Confused and worried for Liana, I shook my head. "No sir."

I trekked my way down the carpeted hall unknowingly, peeking into every compartment I passed, searching for a familiar face. Nearly every one I checked contained loud, laughing students, all of which obviously having plenty of friends to sit with.

Finally, I reached the compartment holding the exact person I needed right now. James sat in an area with his cousin Fred, also a first year, and several older students who kept to themselves and ignored the two eleven-year-old boys in their midst.

Gratefully, I slipped inside, plopping down next to the boys. Both grinned when seeing me.

"Hey there, Alice," James glanced over Fred's head. "…Where's Liana?"

My stomach lurched, and the story spilled out. By the time I was near its end, I was in such hysterics that the other kids in the compartment snickered at me and left us in a heap. Rising to fall upon the other, now vacant cushioned bench, I curled up in a ball on the bench, my eyebrows knit with fear.

Fred was amused by this display. "You would have thought the world had ended!"

James, however, was somewhat more sympathetic, but not as much as he would be without Fred there. "I'm sure she'll be fine, Alice."

"But she's not registered as a student! What'll happen to her?"

The boys only stared, trying to avoid the answer – they, like anyone else, didn't know, but yet detected that the resolution wasn't going to be pleasing.

James and Fred engaged in conversation about Sorting. Normally I'd join in, but instead, I rested my forehead against the cool window frame, soaking in the blurred scenery outside. Half of my thoughts were of the Sorting ceremony; the others were filled with Liana's being. Were school years supposed to start this way?

* * *

The train screeched to a stop nearly an hour and a half later, with the sun setting on the horizon. I was able to track down my trunk and toss my robes over my regular clothing, then rejoined James and Fred as we departed the train to be met with the booming, deep voice I had before only been told about.

"Firs' years follow me! Now don' be shy!"

An enormous sea of black robes was surrounding us, but we were still capable of seeing the school's groundskeeper several feet ahead. As we neared the legendary Rubeus Hagrid, we clearly noticed other first-years hesitating before approaching him, and even some yelping in fright.

"Yeh all here?" The literal giant counted off our heads, and satisfied with the number, beckoned us to begin following him down the beaten path. "This way now!"

"He's brilliant!" beamed James as we walked, his whisper a tad too loud. "Just like Dad described him!"

"He's not teaching still, is he?" I rattled back. "He's got to be _ancient_!"

"Just like every other teacher, right?" Fred smirked. "You don't know many old wizards, do you?"

I glanced over my shoulder at him to stick out my tongue – it would be considered childish if I did it to anyone else, but I knew Fred, and it wouldn't insult him in any way possible.

We were led to sandy ground, and then to a lake's shore, where several boats – each equipped with their own lit lantern – awaited us. "Four teh a boat!", we were told.

Naturally, James, Fred, and I hurried into the same boat, a mousy, petite girl joining us reluctantly. It was here that my eyes searched fervently for Liana, with no success. Then, without any warning, the boats began gliding forward on their own, and we were left to scope for the sight of our new home.

Only about ten minutes into the ride, our boat magically caught up with Hagrid's, who sat alone in his boat. When seeing that he now had companions, the giant beamed widely.

"Well! I recognize yeh four like the back o' my hand!" His beard was completely gray, unruly and wild, framing his face. "You…" He pointed a sausage-like finger at James. "Harry and Ginny's boy James, no doub'! I still rememba' the day yeh were born!"

James was used to being recognized due to his similarity to his dad, but seemed proud at being named by the admirable groundskeeper. He nodded, grinning.

"George Weasley's kid…Fred, o' course…" Hagrid glanced up at the sky for a moment, smiling wryly, and momentarily, the Fred next to me shuffled uncomfortably, knowing Hagrid was recalling his uncle for whom he was named. "And this young lady o'er here…" He smiled at the girl behind me. "Yeh name's Creevey, ain't it? Dennis's daughter?"

The girl, unaware Hagrid was speaking to her, looked up, alarmed, eyes big and fearful. Quietly, she nodded, jerking her glance away back towards her feet.

"Yer an easy one," Hagrid was now eyeing me amusingly. "The spitting image o' Hannah. No one would mistake yeh fer yer dad's girl."

I hid my displease of this – looking like Mum, despite how much I loved her, was never something I liked. Looking like any parent was never appealing to me, for odd reasons. But I smiled anyway. "Yes. I'm _Alice_." I proudly put emphasis on my name.

Eager shrieks sounded from behind us then, and turning away from Hagrid, we could see why. For about one hundred feet away, we could easily spot the magnificent, breathtaking Hogwarts castle, our new home for the next seven years.

* * *

_A/N: Ahh, my Hagrid speech was horrible - his words are hard to write! P_

_Please review!_


	13. Beginning

_A/N: Told you I'd be back soon!_

* * *

Chapter Twelve: The New Beginning

I was sure I had died and gone to Heaven when seeing the castle for the first time. It stood tall and bountiful, flags waving proudly at the top of numerous towers. Even in the darkness, its beauty was leaking towards us uncontrollably. I was practically bouncing in my seat with excitement, eager to be inside.

The boats made it to shore smoothly, and in a rushed second, we had all scrambled out of them and were waiting for a struggling Hagrid to climb out of his own boat. Several of the taller and stronger boys eventually helped him to his feet, and regaining his composure, Hagrid bounded off towards the castle entrance, working off a deep blush. Giggling to ourselves, we followed.

I caught up to James, smiling widely. "This is it! Are you excited?"

His grin was even larger than mine. "What do you think?"

Suddenly, I remembered, and my face fell. "You haven't seen Liana, have you?"

"No…I'm sorry."

A spell of silence cast upon us all as Hagrid led us through monstrous, wooden doors that creaked open magically as we approached. My heartbeat skipped as I spotted yet another hint of magic. Even at the Leaky Cauldron, the portal to the magical world, I never witnessed much spell work and charms. Mum made meals by hand and Dad would wash dishes manually – they told me that this was to teach my siblings and me that no one should fully depend on magic to do everything.

From the doors, we entered a bright, high-ceilinged room, with elegant, old-looking portraits hanging from the walls – the figures in each painting waved jovially at us, shouting out their welcomes.

A gaunt and aged man met us at the top of a flight of curving stairs. He shot us students a nervous smile, and then glanced over at Hagrid. "The new batch, Rubeus?"

"O' course, Professor. All yers." Hagrid brushed past the man, who stumbled a bit as he did, and slipped through an even wider set of doors. A thought flashed through my mind – it must be the Great Hall.

"Welcome," the professor beamed at us, but he couldn't shake off the jittery demeanor. "I am your Transfiguration teacher, Professor Cole. I'm also the head of Gryffindor House, so perhaps I'll be seeing many of you more often."

Towards the back of our hue, someone snickered. Professor Cole paused, as if daring the offender to continue, but when no other sound was heard, Cole spoke again.

"You're about to witness your Sorting ceremony, which will affect your entire school career. Your Houses are your homes; your housemates are your family. There's Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, and Slytherin. Each holds their own set of attributes that a member fulfills in some way."

I spied on the faces around me – none seemed impressed. Apparently, they too knew how the following was going to go.

"You'll be rewarded House points from teachers, at the point of success or exceptional actions. Teachers may also deduct points at a time of detention or improper behavior. At the end of the year, the section with the most points will earn the House Cup."

I began tapping my foot impatiently. From reading _Hogwarts, A History, _I knew all of this. Couldn't formalities be postponed until later?

"…Now I'll bring you into the Great Hall to be Sorted…" Cole seemed unsure of himself, and I wondered if this was his first year teaching. "And it will take place in alphabetical order, so I apologize to anyone whose last name is towards the end…" Behind me, Fred Weasley scoffed.

"Right then…" Professor straightened up to his full height and swirled on his heel. "This way, please!"

We followed him up the landing, and as we approached the doors Hagrid had entered beforehand, they squeaked open for us. I held my breath as Cole led us in, we students in a single file behind him.

The very first things I saw were the flickering candles floating in mid-air nearly about ten feet above us. The enchanted ceiling I had read about radiated a jet black color, to resemble the darkness outside, and four tables stretched from one side of the Hall to another – the four House tables. Professor Cole brushed up the aisle between two tables, and halted at about three steps that led to the staff table. We all fought past each other to earn a front-row view for the ceremony.

I was at the very end of the line straggling down the room's length, stuck between the wall and a towering blond boy. I could just about spot my father sitting several chairs away from the Headmistress's throne-like seat. He sat calmly, speaking with the teacher next to him, as if his own daughter wasn't there about to be Sorted.

Professor Cole was now placing a three-legged wooden stool in the center of the staff table's platform, a scroll in his hands. Cole seemed to be delaying the start of Sorting, glancing back at his coworkers questioningly.

Then I noticed why – the Headmistress's chair was empty. A faint buzz was traveling throughout the tables' occupants – several students behind me, who I'd later identify as Ravenclaws, murmured among each other loud enough for me to hear.

"McGonagall's with some first-year who didn't send in her acceptance letter in time," a female voice snickered. "Jenny said that she saw them head to her office."

"Well, that's never happened before," a voice an octave deeper chuckled. "Good way to kick off the year, eh?"

My stomach tightened – this girl was without a doubt Liana. I was just about to turn and ask these students what they believed would happen to her when a smaller door behind the staff table opened and a witch with snow white hair tied up in a bun emerged, her robes dragging across the floor as she quietly sat down in the center chair. Looking over half-moon glasses, she nodded in Professor Cole's direction, and the latter cleared his throat as he began unrolling his scroll.

A boom sounded throughout the Hall, and we first-years jumped just as we spotted a patch, black hat now perched on the stool Cole set out. I held my breath reverently – the Sorting Hat. The Hall fell to a hush as the Hat's seam opened, and a song spilled out.

To this day, I still don't recall the exact words to the tune that began my Hogwarts life, but I do remember talks of chivalry, smarts, graciousness, and cunningness. How our House would define us later in life. How the entire future depended on this moment.

Let's say that I never believed much of what the Hat said.

The Hall broke into applause as the Hat finished, and then Professor Cole consulted his list for the first of the life-changing events. I began to get comfortable in my squished spot, with the guarantee that it would be quite some time until he reached Longbottom on the list.

"Anderson, Thomas!"

A chubby boy stepped out from the far end of our line, tripping over the steps to the stool. He sat down on it, and the Hat was placed on his head. The Sorting Hat murmured incoherently for several seconds, and then called out Thomas's destiny.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

The third table from the left cheered in delight. Thomas ripped the Hat off his head, handed it to Cole, and stumbled back down the steps to his new assignment.

And so it continued. I recognized several names ("Creevey, Laura…GRYFFINDOR! Finch-Fletchley, Peter…HUFFLEPUFF!) and picked out several students whose parents I could have swore I met at the Leaky Cauldron once or twice ("Bobbin, Emmanuel…RAVENCLAW! Kopeck, Samantha…SLYTHERIN!").

Finally, just after Zachary Landers was Sorted into Hufflepuff, the dreaded, yet eager-filled, moment arrived for me. Professor Cole ran his finger down the scroll and his voice now growing hoarse, he called out...

"Longbottom, Alice!"

My heart dropped, my thoughts blurred. Behind me, the same students who had joked about Liana were whispering of my surname.

"She can't be Professor Longbottom's daughter?"

"You heard Cole, didn't you?"

"Well, Professor's got a new favorite…"

My knees shaking, I slipped out past the blond boy next to me and climbed the steps to Cole and the stool. I caught sight of Dad's bright face and he smiled gently at me before I sat down on the stool, my back now facing him. I partially lost my vision as the too big Sorting Hat was placed upon my pounding head – it blocked my view of the shining House tables in front of me.

There was a minute of silence before an ambiguous voice filled my ears.

"Well, the first of the new Longbottom era, I presume?"

I could hear my mind replying: _Yes_.

"I remember the others so well…there was your father, of course. Almost Sorted him into Hufflepuff, that I did, but then I caught that shimmer of courage deep inside. And your grandparents didn't even need negotiating…they were Gryffindors from the days they were born…

"But your mother's family…all Hufflepuffs, that they were, except for old Artie Abbott, that dreadful Ravenclaw. Now, where to put you…I see loyalty, plenty of it too…"

My heartbeat skipped a bit – loyalty was a well-known trait of Hufflepuffs.

"What's that, my dear? You do not want to be a Hufflepuff?"

My thoughts spoke again: _I'm not very sure._

"Well, calm down now…I see something more in you…there's courage…a fair amount of it too…"

_Me? Courageous?_

"Perhaps not the type your father and grandparents were…but you have courage to stand up to others, to speak your mind…well, you'd best be in GRYFFINDOR!"

The Hat shouted the last word to the entire Hall and the second table from the left broke into applause and whistles. As I rose from the stool, Cole lifting the Hat off my head, I found myself relaxing, a beam easing onto my face. Dashing down the steps to my new House table, I plopped myself on the bench next to a dark-skinned girl who had been Sorted several people before me.

Turning back towards the front of the room, I suddenly made eye contact with my father. Dad's face was alit, his eyes twinkling proudly as he applauded the Hat's decision of me in Gryffindor. I felt more proud of myself than I ever had before when seeing this expression.

The Sorting continued, and I lost interest quickly until Professor Cole reached James's name. I was the daughter of people who had been in separate Houses. James's parents were housemates. If I was selected for Gryffindor, then James ought to be too.

It only took about thirty seconds for the Hat to make its decision, among loud whispers all across the hall – people were eager to learn which House the son of the Boy Who Lived would join. It called out triumphantly, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Our entire table rose to their feet and cheered, whistled, clapped, and did nearly every imaginable sign of joy. Across the Hall, James's cousins Victoire and Dominique – both Ravenclaws – looked dismayed. Michael Scamander, however, leaned across the Gryffindor table to give James a greeting hand pound as he approached.

"Congratulations!" I whispered over to him after the commotion died down and "Quinn, Natasha" was being Sorted.

"You too," he beamed at me, only to be overpowered by more cheers at our table as Natasha also became a Gryffindor.

And once again it continued. Fred Weasley also became a Gryffindor, as well as the blond boy ("Wood, Matthew") who had been next to me in line. Several minutes after the final first-year was Sorted, the snow-white haired witch who had entered late stood from her chair and the Hall quieted.

"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts," the lady's voice was calm and postured. "I trust that you all had a safe and pleasant journey here."

I let out a quiet snort at the thought of the miserable train ride.

"For those who do not know, I am Professor McGonagall, Headmistress to this school. If you wish to be liked by me, I suggest you stay out of trouble."

Some bold laughs tittered across the room. McGonagall narrowed her eyes, but continued.

"Classes start tomorrow morning immediately after breakfast. The Heads of Houses will hand out schedules to all students then. If first-years have any further questions, they should ask their House's prefects or the Head Boy or Girl. Now…let us begin our feast."

She raised her arms, and the golden plates in front of us filled to the brim with hundreds of delicacies. We began snatching up our own plates and scooping food onto them. As medium-range chatter broke, with old friends conversing and new friends getting to know each other, James began speaking to Fred and me.

"Poor old McGonagall…Dad told me that she's getting way too old for working, but she won't quit her job. Something to do with her last promise to Dumbledore…"

We three all knew well of the former Headmaster, due to him being James's brother's namesake. But when it came to interpersonal relationships between these figures of the past, we were as clueless as any other eleven-year-olds.

"My mother says that the best class to take in third year is Divination," the raven-haired girl across from me stated to no one in particular. Referring back to the Sorting Ceremony, I remembered her as Julianne Corner. "She told me that she learned more in that class than any other – lots of predicting the future, you know?"

Fred snorted and stabbed a baked potato with his fork. "Divination's known for being a load of rubbish. My mum took it for a couple of months before dropping out. It was a school wide joke."

Julianne pursed her lips. "Not according to my mum."

"No worries, Fred, you're right," the black girl who was sitting next to me grinned at him. "My dad didn't even take it and he knew what a waste it was." When she caught me staring, she smiled. "Hello. I'm Arria. Arria Jordan."

"Alice Longbottom." We shook hands.

"Fred's dad and mine are good mates," Arria explained.

"So are James's and mine."

"Your dad's the Herbology teacher, isn't he?" the girl named Natasha quipped. "My older sister said his name was Longbottom."

I was reminded of all the late-night conversations Liana and I had had, in which we wondered about other students who might dislike me for Dad's position. Hesitantly, I nodded. Natasha only bit her lip and returned to her chicken.

As the traces of dinner faded on our plates, new dishes appeared on the tabletop – dessert time. We helped ourselves to tarts, puddings, etc. As magic once again cleared the plates, McGonagall gave prefects the word to bring the first-years to our dormitories. As I rose from my seat, about to follow Arria and James away from the table, there was a tap on my shoulder. I turned to find my father there, badly attempting to blend in with the taller students around him.

"Alice, come with me."

"But Dad…" I kept my voice low, not wanting to be labeled as a daddy's girl my first night at school.

"Just come." He took off back towards the staff table, and I embarrassedly pushed past students to follow him.

He led me into the back room McGonagall had come out of earlier in the evening. In it, the only light source was a roaring fire underneath the mantle. A figure sat by the fire's glow, but I didn't recognize this person until I noticed the cage carrying the snow white owl next to the figure. "Liana!"

My best friend turned, her eyes red and puffy. When seeing me, she simply held out her arms and hugged me. When we parted, she burst into tears, which shocked me.

"It's all my fault!" Liana managed to say through her sobs. "I was stupid and didn't send in my acceptance in time! And Uncle Rolf, he never knew, I just told him I'd send it in myself..."

Behind me, Dad cleared his throat. "I'm sure you weren't keeping track, but there were only four girls Sorted into Hufflepuff. Every other House had five of each gender. The extra spot was Liana's."

She whimpered once more. "Does that mean I would have been a Hufflepuff?"

"No, no, no!" Dad sought to correct himself. "We'll never know."

"Can't you just accept her now?" I questioned.

Dad glanced at the floor and shook his head. "It's impossible to do at Hogwarts. Once acceptance letters come in and the deadline passes, the book is bound and those are the only students that can attend – it has to do with the ancient magic the founders set on the school."

"Professor McGonagall is Flooing to France," Liana whispered. "She's trying to get me a spot at Beauxbatons."

"Beauxbatons!" My mouth dropped. "But why?"

Liana shrugged. "To make up for my mistake, I guess. But…France…" Her voice trailed off uneasily.

I squeezed her arm. "I'm sorry, Liana. But…we'll still be friends and you'll do amazing at Beauxbatons."

Liana sighed heavily and glanced away. The door to the chamber creaked open and McGonagall entered, a miniature vial of liquid in her veined hands. "Miss Scamander? Madame Pierre states that she couldn't be happier to accept you into Beauxbatons, should you choose to go."

Liana was quiet for several minutes, and we waited. Finally, she spoke quietly. "I…I guess I'll go. But I don't know how to speak French."

Professor McGonagall gestured to the bottle in her hands. "That is what this is for. Just drink this and whenever you require the need to speak French, the words will just come out. You'll understand what you're saying and what others are saying. It's quite impressive actually."

With shaking hands Liana accepted the potion and swallowed it in one try. She grimaced as it traveled down her throat.

"You leave for France immediately," McGonagall said gently. "Beauxbatons' term started several days ago."

Liana hugged me one last time. "'Bye, Alice. See you at Christmastime?"

I nodded. "Definitely. Write me, okay?"

She agreed, and then glanced over at my dad. "Thank you, Mr. Longbottom. I'm sorry for causing so much trouble."

"No problem at all, Liana."

"This way, Miss Scamander," McGonagall was motioning towards another door that had suddenly appeared – or was it always there?

Liana shot us one last smile before lifting her owl's cage and dragging along her trunk. She disappeared through the doorway, and before the headmistress followed, McGonagall looked back at my father and me.

"Thank you, Neville," she nodded firmly towards Dad. "And Miss Longbottom – welcome. I'm sorry you had to see off your friend on this particular day."

"It's all right," I murmured, clearly not all right with the situation.

"I suggest you get to bed immediately," McGonagall's robes swished as she turned towards the door. "Morning always arrives quickly for a first-year…"

And she too disappeared, shutting the door behind her. I made an effort to dry my slightly misty eyes, Dad patiently waiting until I was ready to leave. Then he personally brought me to Gryffindor Tower, where we came across the infamous portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Thanks, Daddy," I smiled wistfully up at him, hugging his waist. "I love you."

"I love you too, Alice," My father returned the hug promptly. "But when we're in public, I'm Professor Longbottom, all right?"

Hiding my grimace, I nodded.

"Password?" The Fat Lady snipped impatiently for about the hundredth time.

"Veritaserum," Dad – _Professor Longbottom – _replied. I made note of the entry code, although I was certain I'd forget it sometime soon.

The Fat Lady's portrait swung open, but not before she squinted her eyes at him. "Are you like your father, little missy? A terribly forgetful student who'll misplace a password-filled paper for a serial killer to find and then rip me to shreds?"

When I glanced at Dad questionably, he only blushed and pushed me through the hole. As I scrambled up into it, I could hear him lamenting at the Lady, "That was ages ago and it was _not _a serial killer…!"

The Gryffindor common room was circular, several armchairs, tables, and sofas surrounding a crackling fire. Two separate staircases were seen, presumably leading to the girls' and boys' dormitories. A frazzled prefect came rushing down one set of steps, scolding me and asking just where I had disappeared to.

At first I was in fear of being punished by this girl in a superior position, but cunningly, I simply replied, "I was with Professor Longbottom."

The prefect froze and brushed off this remark, sending me up to find the correct dormitory on my own. When I was doing this, I couldn't help but laugh to myself at the prefect's reaction. Perhaps, Liana had rubbed off some of her boldness on me, or maybe I was just living out on my Gryffindor attributes. What I did know was that my new life was beginning, and it was time to be strong and face the music.

* * *

_A/N: Please review!_


	14. Day

Chapter Thirteen: Day by Day

Several months before starting at Hogwarts, James had written me revealing that he had a slight fear of becoming homesick when away at school. As my response, I had convinced him that his parents would always be a letter away, and that he'd become so comfortable at school that he wouldn't even miss Godric's Hollow. I didn't even know how I managed to write those words when I was afraid of being homesick myself, even with Dad at school with me.

On September 2nd, 2016, our first official day at Hogwarts, I arrived at breakfast early, practically too excited to eat. James arrived with the blond boy I'd seen the night before, Matthew Wood.

"Allie!" James slid upon the bench across from me. "'Morning! You've met Matt, right?" He gestured toward the boy, who was already helping himself to heaps of eggs.

"Hey," Matthew waved my extended hand off, spearing sausages with his fork tines. "You're that professor's daughter, right?"

I yanked my hand away. Throughout the morning, the people I passed acknowledged me as "Longbottom's daughter". I already loathed being called this and before the boys had joined me, I was considering asking Mum if I could change my last name legally. "Yes…my name is Alice."

"How did you get a granny name like that?" Matthew seemed to be joking, but his comment caused my jaw to drop in offense.

"_Excuse_ me?" I tightened the grip on my fork.

"Hold it there," Matthew was grinning, clearly entertained by this. "I didn't mean to offend you."

"Well, you did," I averted my eyes away. "It was my grandmother's name. She died before I was born."

Matthew shrugged. "Well, sorry then."

James, suddenly uncomfortable by this exchange, sought to change the subject. "About that professor's daughter thing, Alice…don't feel bad, people are calling me Harry Potter's son."

"Yes, but you're used to being called that," I pointed out. "I've never been called Longbottom's daughter."

"That's another thing…" Matthew began. "What kind of last name is Longbottom?"

I shot him a look; he only snickered and sipped at his pumpkin juice.

That arrogant prat! I'd have loathed him even more if he wasn't suddenly friends with James. Luckily, Arria and Fred arrived at the table together at that moment, and I perked up immediately when seeing two likeable people.

"I heard about your friend, Alice," Arria sat down and began putting together a plate for herself. "I'm sorry."

I managed to shrug it off. "It's okay. We've promised to stay in touch."

"She could have been a Gryffindor…then maybe we wouldn't have that awful Natasha in our dorm," Arria giggled and lowered her voice. "Did you hear her last night? She snored non-stop!"

She and I smirked and glanced at the far end of the Gryffindor table. Natasha and Julianne Corner sat next to each other, whispering like mad – apparently, they were already best friends.

Halfway through mealtime, Professor Cole began sweeping up the aisle, calling out names and handing out schedules. "Jordan! Potter! Longbottom! Weasley!..." He recited all of the first-year Gryffindors' names. We obviously had the same schedules.

James was the first to tear open his envelope. He shrugged when seeing it. "Not bad. Michael said that the best class to have first thing is Charms." He waved the schedule triumphantly. "Lucky us."

Breakfast was finished quickly from then on. We headed off to class in thongs of people – I felt content and popular when traveling to Charms with James, Matthew, Fred, and Arria. The new leather satchel Mum had purchased for me hung loosely on my shoulder, weighed down by textbooks and quills inside. A rush of adrenaline coursed through my body, preparing for not just the day ahead but the upcoming seven years.

Charms was no longer taught by Filius Flitwick, who had retired about two years before we began school. A thirty-ish witch by the name of Professor Bufflee replaced him. She acted stern, spoke firmly, and her hair – which would have looked quite pretty let down – was pulled back in a tight bun. She discussed regulations of class with us firstly and then went on to assign an essay explaining what we hoped to learn this year in Charms.

Next up was Transfiguration, taught by the nervous Professor Cole. How he became a Gryffindor was a mystery to me. But from the moment he admitted he was a registered Animagus and transformed into a ball python before our very eyes, I was hooked onto the science of changing one object to be another. With my new wand, I eagerly tried out the sample spells he assigned to us during our first class. They were simple, such as changing water to food coloring, but they enthralled me.

This fascination continued for me on every other day that week. Transfiguration class to me was a happy haven, a time to just experiment and see where it led you. Most people would disagree, stating that Potions would be fit properly with that description, but I never cared. From the very first class, it was my favorite subject.

Speaking of Potions, it was clear from our very first meeting that I would struggle with it. Our teacher, Professor Zabini, was a former classmate of Dad's and loathed Gryffindors, even though rumors flew that he had saved James and Fred's uncle Charlie's life during the Final Battle. Zabini was the epitome of any Potions master – greasy personality, slicked-back hair, and the attitude to match.

We didn't have Potions on our first day of class; it was only scheduled for the second and third days of the week. Before our first Potions class, as we waited outside the dungeon for Zabini to let us inside, James warned me to keep my mouth shut no matter what. "Dad says that this guy's a bad egg, no matter what he did for Uncle Charlie. If I were you, I'd pick out a seat in the back and avoid any eye contact." He mimicked what he would do to look away from the teacher, and I had to laugh.

"I'd pay big money to see you actually do that," Matthew tossed out from behind us.

"You obviously don't know him very well," I replied with a wry grin.

Matthew opened his mouth to shoot something back at me, but the chamber door creaked open just then. I caught sight of Zabini's profile and felt my blood curdling unpleasantly. As the twenty of us filed past him into the classroom (it was a Double period, which meant longer than a normal class and learning alongside Ravenclaws), the thick scent of sweat and singe nearly knocked me over.

Others were quick to claim seats, with only two to a desk. I was left to sit next to Laura Creevey, who had barely spoken a word to anyone in the past two days. She peeked up at me from over her parchment with big blue eyes, reminding me of a clueless doe.

I shuffled uncomfortably for a moment. "Is it all right if I sit here?"

In response, Laura ducked her head and glanced away. "Sure."

I began setting up my paper and ink, dipping my new quill into the liquid to test its writing capability. Laura, doodling aimlessly on her paper, stayed silent.

"Quiet, please," Zabini's voice echoed alongside the slam of the classroom door as he swished to the front of his desk. "Take note – all students are expected to be waiting outside the classroom at least ten minutes before class time begins." When we did nothing, he cried, "Take note!"

We obeyed, snatching up quills and scribbling down his message. Zabini barked impatiently, "Who can tell me what Potions class can consist of?"

A smart aleck, Leah Juggs, shot her hand up. Zabini nodded curtly at her, and she answered, "To memorize the properties of ingredients and learn how to make and use potions."

"Ten points to Ravenclaw," Zabini declared sourly. "The simplest potion that I have my first years prepare is a boil cure antidote. Instructions are on the blackboard…" He flicked his wand, writing appeared. "…Take out your potion kits, you have fifteen minutes."

Uneasy looks were shared among us all as we tentatively withdrew our kits from our bags. I squinted to make out the thin script on the board, while Laura had already begun crushing snake fangs. Checking that Zabini was out of earshot, I hissed to my seatmate, "Hey! What does the first direction say?"

Laura poured her debris of fangs into her pewter cauldron – I had admired my own pewter one while it was sitting on a shelf in my bedroom in London, but now I wasn't too appreciative of it when I had to drag it across the castle. "Crush a quarter's worth of snake fangs," she replied, her voice slightly higher than it had been before. "Do you need help measuring?"

Scowling to myself, I violently began pounding a handful of fangs. "No, thank you, I can manage."

Eventually, I ended up consulting my textbook for the potion's instructions and still struggled with measuring the exact amount of ingredients that they called for. As fifteen minutes neared an end, the liquid in my cauldron was a pasty green, which I'd later be informed was one step away from an acid green, which tended to burn through the cauldron.

"Sloppy, sloppy, Miss Longbottom," Zabini tusked. "You made the careless mistake of chopping the porcupine quills and then adding them to the cauldron. The instructions said to leave your quills untouched."

I blushed, sinking into my seat. "I couldn't see the blackboard. I looked in the textbook and it called for chopped quills."

Zabini looked amused. "Well, now we know to only consult the board, don't we?"

"Yes sir."

"Due to this trouble of reading the blackboard, perhaps you should be moved to a seat further up front."

"Yes sir." I wanted to protest, but felt that it wouldn't be the best option to do so.

"Corner," Zabini's eyes flicked to the center desk in the first row, "switch seats with Longbottom."

In the front of the room, Julianne scoffed, but gathered her things and sulkily came down the row. I collected my belongings and walked to her old seat, to be dismayed when seeing that she had been sitting next to Natasha.

"Don't even think about touching my side of the bench," she warned as I began to sit down. "And I'll never let you borrow paper or a quill, so don't bother asking."

I chose to reply to neither Natasha nor the nudges James was giving me from behind, trying to make me laugh.

The following day, Potions class was no better. We took notes on the underlying effects of drinking the boil cure potion, and my quill's tip broke in the middle of the session. While asking everyone around me for a writing utensil in a desperate and hushed tone, and avoiding Natasha clearly, Zabini caught me and deducted twenty points from Gryffindor. I was never able to copy down the remainder of the notes.

As the week dragged on, Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts proved to be my most natural subjects. The latter's teaching spot was no longer cursed and Professor Madden had been the teacher for a good eight years. I immediately liked him when he explained that first-years would be given examples of Dark Magic used during the War and then delve into the basic magic that caused the worst of spells and charms. Like Transfiguration, DADA proved itself to be just as experimental and interesting, at least in my opinion. James and Fred both declared it a waste of time, a comment I strongly ignored.

Potions still remained the toughest field for me and soon, I found Herbology – surprisingly enough – as a semi-complicated study. Our first class with Dad consisted of studying the basic plant's main parts, and then comparing this to an average Wizardry plant. Despite displaying to us several dangerous plants, we were told we wouldn't work with this until at least mid-second year.

It was the Friday of our first official week when I was cleaning my hands of potting soil at the end of Herbology class and my father approached. Until then, we had avoided any face-to-face contact and I refrained from raising my hand in class, even though I didn't know most of the answers to Dad's questions.

"Professor Zabini tells me you're having some difficulty," he casually brought up, piling flower pots on top of each other, "in his class."

I bit my lip, switching the water faucet off. "It's a stupid subject that no one needs to know."

"Alice, if it was stupid, it wouldn't be taught."

"I'm just not good at it, all right?"

"Don't be so upset," Dad had a knowing smile on his face. "I was quite terrible at Potions too."

"Well, now I know who to blame," I joked, and Dad chuckled.

"Have a good weekend, all right, Allie? And write to your mother, she's wondering about you."

"Okay," I dried my hands and snatched up my bag. "See you at dinner."

I left Greenhouse 1 with my housemates and the Slytherins we had had class with. Herbology was the last period of the day and I was actually looking forward to my first weekend away at school. So many possibilities – exploring the castle, writing letters to Mum and Liana, and certainly stuffing myself with the wondrous school food.

Halfway back to the castle, James caught up with me, a snip of paper in his hand. "I got this from Hagrid today," he waved it in my face. "Says that he wants us two to come and visit him later today. Something about wanting to chat with some of his favorite students' kids."

"Just us?" I didn't even remember the last time I went someplace with just James.

James showed me the letter. It requested only James and me.

"Right then," I shrugged. "What time?"

"Half past three. We should go as soon as we dump our stuff in the common room."

We did so, and then hiked the grounds to the very outskirts of the Forbidden Forest, where Hagrid's hut was located. The hut was large and rustic and the door immediately flew open when we knocked.

"Alice! James! Come righ' in!" All I saw was an enormous hand reaching out and pulling us into the cabin. Once over the threshold, Hagrid patted our backs and I was sure I heard a bone crack. "Can I get yeh anythin'? Cuppa tea? Scones?"

"I'll have tea, thanks," I pulled out a chair from the circular table in the middle of the room and sat down.

At the time, I had heard nothing of Hagrid's legendary bad cooking, but James however knew enough to politely refuse any food and beverage. When I glanced at him quizzically, he only raised his eyebrows, as if to say _"You'll see what I mean."_

Hagrid bustled around his stove for several minutes before placing a mug in front of me. Cautiously, I took a sip, to be surprised by lukewarm and weak tea. I swallowed quickly to stop myself from spitting it out and smiled graciously at Hagrid, who beamed back. When his back was turned, I coughed slightly and James snickered.

"So how was yer firs' week?"

James spoke first. "Busy. The schoolwork's a real bugger."

"I like it," I added firmly. "It's better than helping my mum at the Leaky Cauldron every day."

"I always liked yer mum," Hagrid wagged his finger at me. "Little bit o' a nervous nelly, but a nice girl, no doub'."

I laughed. "That's Mum all right."

"And yer dad, James…" Hagrid appeared nostalgic. "Met him when he was on'y a wee baby! Carried him meself teh tha' awful uncle o' his. He ever mention me?"

"Plenty of times, Hagrid," James grinned. "I know loads."

Hagrid blushed and waved off the conversation. "Say, heard 'bout tha' friend o' yers, Alice. Sorry 'bout it."

"Liana will be fine," I pictured my friend talking to French peers brightly and eagerly. "She's pretty tough."

"Liana once beat me in wizard chess," James clarified. "She is definitely tough."

"Yeh gotta keep an eye out fer those Scamanders," Hagrid agreed. "I know her uncle Rolf – big animal-lover, tha' he is. No wonda' he married Luna."

Hagrid then proceeded to tell us of his third-year Gryffindors in Care of Magical Creatures, this group including Michael, who was oddly unfazed about his sister's departure to a school outside the country. "Tha' Michael kid's a piece o' work. James, yer close with him, aren' yeh?"

James shrugged. "A little, yeah."

"I'd avoid him if I were yeh. He's trouble all right."

"Michael isn't that bad," I quickly defended. I may still have had a miniscule fancy of him, but having not spoken with him in some time, I wasn't certain.

James smirked at me and I reddened. "And you would know, Alice? Is he flirting with eleven-year-olds now?"

Hagrid chuckled. "Eh, don' worry 'bout it, James. I can rememba' kids saying tha' Alice's mum fancied yer dad back in teh day. School romances never last long."

At the thought of this, I crinkled my nose. Picturing Mum admiring Mr. Potter disturbed me slightly, as being her daughter, I only saw her compatible with my own father. Looking over at James, I saw that he seemed to be mulling over the same thing, his eyes glazed and squinted. Meeting each other's eyes, we smirked together.

Hagrid sought to prolong our visit when it was well past its acceptable length. We finally promised to return the following Friday, and then walked back to the castle for dinner in silence, shivering in the late summer air. I spoke quietly after a long two minutes.

"It's strange, isn't it? To think of our parents when they were our age?"

James nodded. "They went through so much. I mean…a _lot_. Death and stuff."

Both of my grandmothers had passed away before I was born, Mum's mother before my parents even began dating and my namesake just two days before my birth, on August 14th, 2005. I had never met my maternal grandfather, but perhaps he was still out there somewhere, in a feud with Mum or battling a terminal illness – my mother never spoke of him and I had seen no photos. Frank Longbottom, my grandfather, passed away when I was six months old – I had once seen a photograph of my drooling baby self on his lap, his eyes blank, but a small smile on his face, as if he knew I was _his _granddaughter. Other than being taken to his funeral – which I didn't remember at all – I had never experienced death before like our parents had.

Smiling, I added, "Let's just hope the same things won't happen to us."

* * *

As September went on, workloads of homework increased. I did schoolwork in the library often with Arria Jordan, the only other studious and bearable roommate of mine. Laura Creevey technically fit both descriptions as well, but continued to keep to herself, roaming the castle alone. I often saw her by the war memorial in the Great Hall, reading her uncle's name off the granite thoughtfully.

Natasha Quinn and Julianne Corner were the closest friends among us five, rarely seen without the other. The only time they spoke to the rest of us in the dormitory was when they felt like belittling us, criticizing the state of our beds or our hair. Laura was the only one who took the comments to heart, occasionally crying when Natasha and Julianne were out of the room. Arria would shape her into line, being the tough rock that she was after growing up with Fred Weasley.

As for me, I still felt awkward around the four girls most times. Arria was the closest thing I had to a friend in my dorm, but even she chose being with Fred over me. James continued to divide free time between Matthew Wood and me, occasionally succeeding in getting both Matthew and I to spend time with James together.

When we were both there, we'd shoot biting words back and forth. One day in Charms, the three of us grouped together to work on an in-class assignment. Professor Bufflee nearly had to administer a Shield Charm to keep Matthew and me from ripping each other's heads off. James, of course, barely acknowledged our dislike of each other, entertaining himself regularly by performing minor pranks on the Slytherins.

The other Gryffindor boys – Fred, Martin Thomas, and Kyle Norsworthy – had become their own trio, with Arria tagging along most of the time. In Potions, Professor Zabini would be in the middle of a lengthening, dull lecture when the four of them would burst out laughing at an inside joke from the back of the room. By the beginning of our third week of school, the boys of this group had already served detention four times each and Arria had gone twice. Dad warned me to avoid getting involved in their misdoings. To this, I nearly revealed James's doing of several pranks on the Slytherins, but it was unnatural for James Potter to be caught playing a prank, or for anyone to rat out on him.

I wrote to Liana often, and tried writing Mum just as much. When I did contact the latter, I received in reply the same type of letters: _How are you doing, Allie? Is the schoolwork difficult? Are you being nice to your roommates? Work hard and squeeze in some fun…_

However, on mail days at breakfast, James's owl Damon (having not purchased an owl of my own pre-Hogwarts, I used my friend's for sending out letters and getting replies) would often bring me a letter from Liana, its contents always varying. _Bonjour, mon ami! I love French, don't you? It's so fun!...My roommate Jillian is American, isn't that ironic?...I can just spot the ocean from my dormitory's window, and yesterday, Madame Pierre let us have lunch on the beach…Have you ever had bouillabaisse, Alice?_

Liana spoke the rave of her new school, making it seem like the best place in the world. I was perfectly happy at Hogwarts, but couldn't fight back the curiosity of seeing Beauxbatons for myself. Finally, I wrote Liana asking if she could send me several pictures of her school and new friends, and I would do the same.

Her owl Belle arrived one morning with Liana's letter, its envelope thick. I knew then that photos were stored inside. Pushing aside my porridge bowl, I ripped open the thick creamy paper and about five moving photographs poured out. There was no actual letter, only captions on the back of each picture.

One portrayed the view of the coastline from Liana's bedroom window; another showed her and her roommate Jillian together. For eleven years old, this Jillian gave off the vibe of a seventeen-year-old fashion model.

Another showed off her favorite professor, the last gave me an idea of how elite Beauxbatons actually was as I gaped over the picture of the school's entry hall. Later that day, as I trekked around school snapping shots of the interior, James and Arria, and Professor Madden, I felt extremely inferior to Liana's current position.

Soon, the first month of school was nearing an end, and Hogwarts had become a second home to us all. As I fell asleep the night before October 1st, I licked my lips in anticipation, wondering if this second month would bring anything worthwhile.

* * *

_A/N: Please review!_


	15. Change

_A/N: Yes, I know it's been awhile. This chapter really dragged on for me to write and it's not my best. But I felt that somehow what happens in it had to come eventually, so here it is!_

* * *

Chapter Fourteen: The Change of Pace

October 3rd, 2016, was not the best of days for me. It was a Monday after a miserable weekend during which Natasha Quinn nearly damaged my camera and Matthew Wood called me an unrepeatable word behind my back. It was raining when I woke that morning and apparently, I overslept, as my four roommates were already awake, rushing around the room getting dressed.

"Hurry, will you!" Arria tossed my school robes at me, a hairbrush in her hand. "Breakfast is nearly over!"

We had all been up late the previous night, struggling to finish our difficult Defense Against the Dark Arts homework that was due later that morning. I was the last to fall asleep, having wanting to check over my completed paper before putting it away. That morning, wide-eyed and frazzled, I jumped out of bed – literally, even, due to the crack of a thunder clap overhead.

I left Gryffindor Tower on my own, running at full speed to the Great Hall, my bag beating violently against my side. Several third-years already leaving breakfast passed; Michael was one of them and chuckled when he saw me. I didn't even have the time to snarl at him; instead I sped around the group and entered the Hall, just able to snatch some toast before the food-filled plates disappeared and the remaining students left for class.

I had Charms first hour and I made it to the classroom just as Bufflee was about to shut the door. Knitting her eyebrows together, she frowned down at my sweaty, panting exterior. "Let's not make this a habit, Miss Longbottom – get in."

I slipped in past her and took the last remaining seat at a table with some Hufflepuffs. Miraculously, I saw Arria, Natasha, Julianne, and Laura all at a table together, somehow having made it to class just before they'd be considered late. Julianne giggled out loud at me, while Natasha had a petite smirk on her face.

"Hey," James nudged me from the table behind, "where were you at breakfast?"

Bufflee was marching up to the blackboard. "Quills out, ladies and gentlemen!"

"I overslept," I mouthed to my friend.

He shrugged at me, clearly unimpressed. I rolled my eyes and turned away, dipping my quill into my ink bottle.

DADA was next. I half-expected my essay that I was so proud of to not be in my bag when I looked, but fortunately, it was right where I left it last night. Instead, it turned out to be in Transfiguration that I had misplaced my homework, leading to me desperately turning my bag inside out to find it. Professor Cole stood before my desk impatiently, the rest of the class's papers in his arms. "No luck, Longbottom?"

Finally, I placed my bag aside in ashamed embarrassment. "…Nothing, sir."

"If you find it, bring to me at lunch," he replied firmly, and swept off.

Across the aisle, Laura Creevey leaned over to speak to me. "Alice… your homework…it's on the floor of our room. I meant to tell you but you left so quickly this morning…"

"Thanks," I didn't sound as relieved as I really was, causing Laura to back away, looking somewhat hurt.

We were dismissed for mealtime at the end of Transfiguration, and I took this time to hurry back to the dormitory to search for my worksheet. I finally found it underneath Julianne's bed, which led me to wonder. After delivering my homework to Cole, there was no point in going for lunch; I ended up being the first in line waiting outside the History of Magic classroom when everyone else arrived straight from the Great Hall.

Herbology was the last class of the day for us Gryffindors. I entered the greenhouse tired and frustrated and dreading the amount of homework I had to complete that night. Not even Dad's welcoming grin brightened my mood. James had purposely avoided me that day, seeing that I was crabby, and he quickly paired with Matthew for today's assignment before I could ask to work with him. Knowing that she wouldn't strike up conversation, I approached Laura to work with; she looked surprised but didn't question my action.

"Good afternoon, class!" My father was known for being the chirpiest teacher on the staff, always trying to bring the cheerfulness out of his students. Usually he succeeded at this, especially with me, but that day, a frown stayed plastered on my face.

"Today we'll be discussing Devil's Snare and its effects and weaknesses…and _no, _Mr. Potter, we will not be experimenting with it!" Dad eyed James, who only smirked along with Matthew. During the past few Herbology sessions, James had been sneaking semi-dangerous plants out of the greenhouse and using them in his pranks on the Slytherins. He only got caught by Dad the previous class, which explained my father's warning glance.

"Creevey, Longbottom, would you two please collect the flower pots from the last class?"

The said pots were strewn across the greenhouse's working table, covered in dirt and shrubbery of all sorts. Annoyed that Dad once again selected me to clean up another's mess, I huffily joined Laura in gathering the pots, and we placed them off to the side.

As we sat back down, Dad begun lecturing and paper and pen were drawn. My ears never comprehended his words, but yet I could see words spilling out onto my parchment. The clock in my head began counting down the minutes until I could run back to the school and hide under my pillow for the rest of the day.

"…If ever captured by Devil's Snare, a victim need only remain still, and then will be released…"

_Twenty minutes…nineteen…_

"…It breeds in batches of about a hundred and can reproduce quickly…"

_…Fourteen, thirteen…_

"Can anyone tell me how Devil's Snare is useful to the environment? Yes, Basil?"

_…Ten, nine, eight…_

"Ten points to Slytherin!"

_Three…two…one! _

_Brrring! _The school bell throbbed, and the twenty of us scrambled to our feet, gathering together quills and paper and shoving them into our bags. My father began calling out our homework assignment, most of his words being blatantly ignored by the class. Not seeming to mind very much, Dad grinned to himself, and on the way to his desk, he tossed out, "Longbottom, would you please tell my next class to meet me in Greenhouse 3?"

It was the first time I ever spoke back to any teacher, but it was about ten times worse with that teacher being my father who I loved immensely. Without thinking, I found myself saying, "Oh, do it yourself!"

The remaining students in the greenhouse oohed and snickered, and Dad shot them a look, causing them to hurry out quickly, laughing among themselves. "Alice Pomona," his voice was low and had a warning tone, "do you want to explain yourself?"

My heart was pounding and my face was red. "I-I'm sorry. I've just had a bad day."

"That's still no excuse to sass a teacher, even if it's me."

"…I know."

"I'm going to treat you like I would any other student, all right?"

"Yes…"

My father seemed stern. "Detention, Miss Longbottom. Tonight at seven, in Greenhouse 3." He hesitated, looking reluctant, but continued, "And fifteen points from Gryffindor."

My mouth dropped, but I nodded obediently, tossing my bag onto my shoulder and flouncing out of the greenhouse without a second look back. By this time, my classmates were already halfway back to the castle, but I didn't mind. I was so infuriated that I probably would snap at anyone who approached me then.

When I entered the school through the entry hall, I found both James and Matthew waiting for me by one of the enchanted suits of armor. Keeping my eyes focused ahead, I stomped past, and looking away from the metallic knight they were fighting off, the boys ran up to my side.

"Alice, what happened with you and Longbottom?" James quickened his step to keep up with me. "All those Slytherins came out saying that you sassed him!"

"I did," My loud footsteps echoed throughout the hall as I pounded my feet against the marble staircase. "And my own dad gave me detention!"

"Whoa!" Matthew burst out laughing, thumping at my back. "Daddy's little girl got in trouble! Good for you!" I quickly jerked away from his touch.

James looked amused as well. "Wow! I never thought he'd actually give you detention even if you deserved it! Your dad's cooler than I thought!"

"Oh, shut it!" I broke into a run and dashed in the opposite direction, my destination being nowhere in particular. Eventually, I reached the library and picked out a secluded corner amidst stacks of books for myself. Sinking down to the floor, I felt embarrassed, guilty, and alone. For the first time, I found myself missing Liana and wishing she'd appear to comfort me in some wonderfully 'Liana' way. If Mum were there, she'd talk Dad out of his angry mood, and get me out of my detention.

Detention – it was a word I associated with troublesome boys, and occasionally Arria Jordan. I didn't think I could live down the embarrassment of being given punishment by Dad, even if it might not be the only time he'd do so. What would Mum say when she found out?

"Alice?" A voice came from behind the shelf in front of me, and then, Matthew Wood peeked out from behind the shelf. "Can I talk to you?"

"Do you just want to insult me?" I shot back, considering using my bag as a weapon if he began teasing me.

"Um…no," Matthew sat in the chair at the table across from me. "Look, I know we don't really get along very well. And I have to admit that my first impression of you was a spoiled daddy's girl."

"_What_?" I began reaching for my bag's strap.

"But that's not what I wanted to say!" Matthew leaned back defensively. "What I wanted to say is that now I see you're not spoiled and that you can keep up with boys a lot."

"Your point?"

"I don't think you're that bad."

I paused, my hand midway to the strap. "Oh…well…thanks, I guess…since you said you're sorry, you're not that bad either."

Matthew smiled appreciatively. "Thanks. So…friends?" He extended a hand.

I managed to smile back. "Friends." We shook on it.

* * *

My detention consisted of spending time in Greenhouse 3, which housed far more dangerous plants than Greenhouse 1, where all of our Herbology classes took place. Dad stayed with me in case any species decided to be feisty with me. We did not speak; instead, I watered the plants and cleaned working tables as my father instructed me to do. In actuality, it was just like when I was younger and we lived in Godric's Hollow, and I'd help Dad tidy up our greenhouse in the backyard.

Beforehand, Arria Jordan had given me detention survival tips at dinner, such as to avoid eye contact with the teacher and to wear your uniform to the session. I obeyed these directions and secretly hoped that Dad was hurt by me refusing to look at him. I knew that my parents had kept me in line properly and never spoiled me, but I also knew how to soften up my father and trigger his guiltiness.

Luckily, the days following my detention ran along more smoothly than the miserable October 3rd. My dad kept me after class one day and we reconciled; I agreed to try to fully accept the fact that while at Hogwarts, he had to be my teacher before acting as my father.

"However," he cheekily added, with a sneaky grin on his face, "there's no rule that I should keep deducting points from my own House, right?"

In free time, I got to know Matt, as he begged me to call him. I learned that he was the second of five children, and his older sister Rebecca was a Ravenclaw fourth-year. In all, he had three sisters and one brother, who wasn't even a year old yet. I wondered to myself if the lack of another male presence for so long was a cause of how Matt was now – somewhat belittling but respectful to girls when he wanted to be. I discovered this respecting trait when he began holding doors open for me when we and James walked to class together and when he let me have the last chicken leg at dinner one night.

As October wore on, I could definitely see a three-way friendship among James, Matt, and I. They were better company than my roommates, as far as I was concerned, and I had known one of them my whole life anyways. Many times during meals I'd catch Professor McGonagall taking the three of us in, looking almost nostalgic.

"Yeh three probably remind her o' Harry and his mates," Hagrid noted when we visited him one Friday. It was the first time James and I had taken Matt to his hut with us, and our friend was currently goggling over Hagrid's drooling pet dog resting in the corner of the room. "He and Ron and Hermione – thick as thieves tha' they were." He grinned over at James knowingly. "And they still are, o' course."

James had been snickering over Matt's fear of Fang the dog, not paying full attention to Hagrid. When he heard the mention of his father, aunt, and uncle, he feigned surprise, and I smirked into my tea mug (I still always accepted Hagrid's food and beverage offers to be polite). I knew James missed his family, as much as he pretended he didn't. I happened to know that he wrote his parents twice nearly every week, but like him, I acted as if I was oblivious to this. If I ever approached him about homesickness, he would defend himself.

By this time of the month, I had sorted out what types of people other first years were. I knew students in other Houses by name, and some only by face. The Gryffindors I could classify simply.

Natasha Quinn and Julianne Corners were the mean girls, wanting to look no further than each other for friends. Arria Jordan was the tomboy who loved causing mischief. Fred Weasley was the ringmaster of trouble, while Martin Thomas and Kyle Norsworthy were his silent but loyal sidekicks. Laura Creevey was the shy, meek one and the girl who I sometimes forgot was present in class or at mealtimes. James and Matt were the secondary pranksters, who were cunning enough to perform tricks under the radar. I secretly thought they were better mischief-makers than Fred and his gang, due to the fact that James and Matt had nearly never gotten caught by teachers.

Around mid-October, word flew that the first years would be taking a several-week flying course to learn how to properly ride a broomstick. Students who wished to only had to attend the first class and then stop going. Those who wanted to improve immensely could sit through the whole course.

The morning of the course's start, I sat with James and Matt at breakfast and they eagerly talked of nothing but the flying class. "I hope this teacher knows what she's doing," James mused, shoveling eggs into his mouth. "I've been flying since I could walk!"

I laughed. "Oh, of course you have." We both knew how he had been terrified to ride only two feet into the air on his toy broomstick when he first received it.

James pushed me away playfully. I had just snatched up a handful of toast to toss at him, but spotted my father's warning look from the corner of my eye. Disappointedly, I laid the toast back on my plate and Matt smirked.

"I swear, I couldn't have picked more entertaining mates," he was grinning widely. "I don't know about you two, but I plan to blow that teacher's socks off with _my_ flying skills."

If he had said this a month before, I would have grown cross with him for bragging. But now that I knew him, it was obvious to me that Matt had lived exaggerating his abilities, to try to outshine his older sister and steal attention from his younger ones. As the oldest of three, I never felt the need to embellish talents, even though I had no clue if I possessed _any_ kind of talent.

Breakfast ended and we trooped over to our first class of the day, DADA. Our next lesson would be flying, and our eagerness for this was evident throughout class. Madden finally gave up trying to teach and let us talk quietly among ourselves for the rest of the period. As I began packing away my quill and ink bottle, I caught sight of Laura Creevey from behind me, her face insipid and her eyes fearsome.

Curious, I spoke up. "Laura, are you all right?"

Her head jerked up as she glanced over at me. "Oh…I…I'm just a little nervous, that's all."

"To fly?"

"Sort of."

"Flying isn't so bad," I consoled.

Laura only shook her head and glanced away.

The bell rang then and we all nearly jumped out of our seats. We were to meet up with the Ravenclaws out on the lawn behind the castle as soon as our first class was through. On the walk to outside, James began excitedly rattling off flying tips to anyone who would listen. When this failed, he started bragging of all the Quidditch players in his family, from his dad and uncle, who mutually played on the Gryffindor team, and his mum, who played both in school and professionally.

I was not one of those who paid attention to his rants. I was instead thinking of my parents, neither of which being very well-accomplished athletes. Since the age of five I had continuously been told of how my father's first flying lesson went by Dad himself, who found the story rather amusing about twenty-five years later. The lesson had concluded early for him when he broke his wrist after losing control of his broomstick.

As for Mum, she despised flying. She once proudly confirmed that she hadn't planted her behind on a broom since her first flying lesson. My mother had even chosen walking on foot to a friend's wedding over flying there with the rest of the bridal party.

"It's not good to lose your head in the clouds, Alice, even if it's only for awhile," she once advised me. "It's important to stay grounded…the worst things can happen if you let dreaming run your mind…"

Although I had little experience, the few times I had been on a broom were pleasurable. I'd certainly never be as skilled as James or Matt, but could catch up to them someday.

On the luscious, bottle green lawn, Madam Hooch, the flying instructor, was waiting for us, her posture rigid and firm, and her mouth in a tight line. "Single file, please! No talking!" When we were in two straight lines, separated by House, the squinty-eyed woman studied us, our build, and the strength in our arms. When she was contented, Hooch blew shrilly on the whistle hanging from her neck and we winced.

"I trust you all have enough sense to recognize the object in front of you," she snipped, gesturing towards the twenty broomsticks laid out on the lawn. "Broomstick flying is not the most common of magical transportation, but here at Hogwarts it may grow to be ordinary for you…"

And so it went on. Throughout the opening lecture, James hissed corrections towards Madam Hooch and she'd shoot him piercing looks. When it came to our actual flying time, I finally realized how poorly the school broomsticks were crafted. Both Matt and James cursed under their breaths as they tried to levitate on these brooms, but once both were in the air, they showed off their expertise, leading to Madam Hooch applauding them reluctantly. Along with many others, it took me some time to master the skill of ascending on this strange broomstick and I struggled a bit while in the atmosphere. Madam Hooch only clucked her tongue when seeing me nearly slip off the edge of my broomstick. I could imagine her thinking back to my father's first flying tutorial that ended in an injury and hoping I would not accomplish the same.

Laura Creevey, however, was on the verge of hurting herself more than I was. She whimpered helplessly when in the air for the first time, causing Madam Hooch to scolding her. "Creevey, really, there is no room for five-year-olds in flying class!"

I glanced over my shoulder at Hooch and Laura, who looked crestfallen. A tiny voice inside of me wanted to ask if the latter was all right, if she wanted some assistance. Just as I was mustering courage to approach Laura, she landed back on the ground, eyes hazy and head bowed low.

The class lasted a good hour before Madam Hooch dismissed us. On our way to our next class, I could feel my muscles contract uncomfortably as I walked to Transfiguration. The Gryffindor boys, all having received somewhat positive feedback from the flying teacher, whooped and chattered animatedly of the lesson and the future, where they'd be able to try out for the House Quidditch team. The girls, like me, seemed bruised and weary, already sure that they wouldn't return for the next flying class. I kept my mixed comments of the lesson to myself, having not fully hated it, but having not loved it as well.

Laura Creevey had retreated towards the back of our crowd, her books pressed firmly against her chest, her eyes glued to the floor. I paused, perhaps to let her catch up with me, but Professor Cole hurried us into the classroom at the last minute. When seeing my roommate select a seat in the dark corner of the room, I hesitated once more, but then planted my books on the desk next to her and sat down at it. I didn't do it out of sympathy, I thought, but I could tell others did think this by the snickers that came from Natasha Quinn's direction.

"Hi," I smiled gently at her. "What did you put for the second homework question?"

Her eyes enlarged while glancing sideways at me and I noticed how beautifully blue Laura's pupils were. She looked down so often that I had never observed her face closely before.

"Err…"

"This?" I showed her my paper.

"Yes," Laura edged her chair away from me a bit. "…Transfiguration's my best subject…so far, at least…um…"

"Mine as well," I grinned at her again; this time she faintly returned my gesture. Somehow, I knew she meant it.

And there began a new change of pace, a new friendship, and another new beginning.

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_A/N: Please review and tell me a favorite part of yours!_


	16. Fall

Chapter Fifteen: The Fall

An unspoken comradeship began between Laura and me the day of flying lessons. I didn't consider her an actual friend, but definitely an ally in the often complicating atmosphere of our dormitory. She still came off as very apprehensive and quiet and dodged the idea of a conversation with me, but there was actual interaction between us after the day I approached her in Transfiguration class. If Arria decided that she had a bone to pick with Natasha or Julianne, Laura and I would slink off to the corner together, quietly completing homework as our roommates quarreled in defying tones.

The month of October was when we grew accustomed to the school and its ways, and we'd strut about school with a knowing air, having felt that we had conquered anything that was a challenge the previous month. As I look back on it now, I laugh, because we were beautifully oblivious to the obstacles that would come in our next six years at the school. But perhaps that was the theme of being young and naïve, especially in a world of magic and spells.

It was in the middle of the month when Laura began a discussion, which was seldom at the time. Ever so casually she spoke, "So, do you remember your grandparents at all?"

I was surprised by this haphazard question, but experienced no hurt from being asked. Finally, I answered, "…Not very much. My grandma died before I was born and I was so little when my grandpa…" I didn't need to finish, for I knew she understood.

"And your mum's parents?" Everyone was aware of my father's background, it seemed.

"Her mother died during the War. I don't even know about her dad – if he's alive or dead, I mean."

"I wish I knew my uncle," Laura softly replied. "He was Dad's best friend, you know. He always carried around a camera – a Muggle one, actually – and took photos of people. And never for any particular reason either…it sounds odd, right?" Laura bit her lip. "But I wished I could have met him."

"I like photography, too," I lightened up my manner purposely, to change the subject. "I have an entire scrapbook full of my photos."

"Really?" Laura smiled, and the grin lit up her face. I liked her when she let down her guarding wall and allowed people in. Of course, at that time, I seemed to be the only one who was brought in. "May I see them?"

I hesitated, having never shown my beloved scrapbook to anyone else before, except perhaps some snippets of it to Liana. But Liana wasn't here with me, and if I was going to share my photographs with someone, it might as well be with a trusting girl like Laura.

She studied each page of the collection intently, running her hand over certain pictures. After she closed the book, Laura smiled at me kindly. "I liked them a lot. It must be fun living at the Leaky Cauldron."

I shuffled in my seat a bit. "It's all right, I guess. I just miss our old home, honestly."

Laura nodded, and then timidly added, "Perhaps you and I could take a picture together? To put in your book?"

It was then when I realized that all Laura longed for was a confiding friend at Hogwarts, just like I did, and that perhaps among the sea of our differences, we had similarities. So I retrieved my camera and sat next to her, holding out the object parallel to our eyes, so that the lens mirrored our faces. As I pressed down the button, we both broke into grins and for no particular reason, suddenly convulsed with giggles. By the time the flash from the camera had disappeared, we were rolling on Laura's bed in laughter, utterly unsure of why we were so uproarious.

We abruptly looked up to find Arria in the doorway, staring blankly at us. "Oy! What's going on here?"

That only made us snigger more. With my camera in my hand and my scrapbook tucked underneath my arm, I rose from the bed and Laura did the same. "Just an inside joke, that's all," I told Arria as we slipped past her to get to the stairs. Behind me, Laura let off a little snicker, which I found shockingly out of character for her.

We headed down to the common room together to find James and Matt there, unsuccessfully trying to do homework, as they were distracted by the enchanted paper airplanes some fifth-year boys were sending across the perimeter. I joined them at their table without any vacillation, but Laura paused, clearly sure that my friends wouldn't welcome her into the group.

"Come on," I motioned towards the only remaining chair. "Sit down."

She slowly obeyed, avoiding any eye contact with the boys, who didn't seem to notice her. Across from her, Matt shot up from his chair to reach at one of the airplanes zooming above his head, snapping it out of its flight. As he flopped down back upon his chair, Laura glanced doubtfully at him. This time, he became aware of her.

"Oh, hi…Lana, isn't it?"

"Laura, actually." She blushed at his careless mistake.

James was scribbling at a sentence on his parchment. "Either of you finish the Transfiguration homework? I'm bloody confused about it."

"What confuses you?" Laura asked primly. "I already finished it, so I could help you…" Her voice was calm but helpful.

James seemed pleased at this offer. "Well, all this mumbo-jumbo about changing water into wine…"

As the two dove into their tutoring session, Matt noticed my scrapbook on the tabletop. With curious eyes he spoke, "Hey, what's that, Alice?"

I subconsciously snatched the book away from his eyes. "Nothing you need to see." Over the past few weeks of school I had gotten to know Matt more than Laura, but something about the latter was reassuring, almost like she had a mother's gentle touch. I trusted her with my photographs, but believed that Matt would only mock me for taking them.

* * *

The following two weeks became analogous to our first meeting of four. Laura, so quiet and precise, would help the boys with their homework after dinner. If mine wasn't finished at the time – which it usually wasn't – she'd assist me too. Besides offering hints and pointing out mistakes in our work, she barely spoke in the presence of James and Matt. When she and I would leave the common room to ready ourselves for bed, it was only then when she became animated again, typically wondering aloud if she had truly reached the minimum of words required for our Potions essay.

The photo I took of us together developed soon, and I pasted it into my scrapbook warmheartedly, as if it symbolized that I truly wasn't alone at Hogwarts. I had someone to side with if our roommates got into yet another squabble and a person to walk to class with when the boys were being just that and acting obnoxious. However, even if Laura and I had each other to turn to when things in the dormitory turned ugly, the warfare among Arria, Natasha, and Julianne became too much to bear.

Halloween was about a week and a half away when I told James and Matt about our rooming situation at breakfast; Laura had left early to check over her homework before class time. Seeing the boys devour their food like the pigs they were caused me to believe they weren't listening, but when I paused in my story to take a sip of juice, James glanced up at me, waffle bits bursting out of his mouth.

"And? Go on."

My eyebrows rose in surprise. "Um…well, it's not really Arria being a pain, it's the other two. And if this is how awful they're going to be for the rest of the year, then…"

"Then you might want to start sleeping in the common room," Matt snickered. "Trust me, I know girls. It's only going to get worse."

James's face suddenly registered oddly, and a wicked grin spread across his face. "Not true. We can, say….teach them a lesson on how to play nicely with other girls."

I recognized that face, that manner of voice. I swiftly remembered the pranks James concocted when we were living in Godric's Hollow and that convincing tone he'd adopt when I was doubtful of participating. However, he was always fair if we got caught in action by sitting with me in a double time-out. Feeling that a similar happening was soon to occur, I immediately replied, "What are you talking about?"

"I think Natasha and Julianne are overdue for a little Halloween prank, don't you?"

"I love the way your mind works," Matt patted James's shoulder admirably. "Those girls deserve everything we'll do to them."

My mind then split into two, one side telling me not to join this prank session, for if Dad found out, he'd surely murder me. The other side was persuading me not to miss out on the fun and that Natasha and Julianne really _did_ deserve whatever James had in mind. Before one side fully dominated the other, I spoke, "Well, I guess we could do something to them. What are you thinking of?"

James shook his head. "Don't ask. But just you wait – Halloween's not going to be pretty for them."

And so the affair remained unspoken of until October 30th, the day before Halloween. James disappeared right after dinner and wasn't with us when Matt and I began doing homework with Laura, who was deeply absorbed in a Muggle book that she had received from her mother the previous day. Then out of the blue, James came thudding down the stairs of the boys' dormitory, causing enough of a racket for other studying students to shoot him dirty looks.

Throwing his housemates an equally irritated look, James slipped into a chair at our usual table, a victorious grin on his face.

"Well what's the matter with you?" Matt was currently frustrated with his work, rubbing his quill tip against the paper so violently it had created a hole in the parchment.

"I just finished setting up the you-know-what," James replied. "It's ready for tomorrow."

"What's ready for tomorrow?" We turned to find Laura peeking over the top of her book, her eyes apprehensive.

"Nothing," James said quickly. Laura seemed almost hurt at this retort, her big blue eyes withdrawn and blank once again as she returned to her book.

"Well…will you tell us about it?" I was no longer intent on finishing this work before drowsiness caught me off guard. I wanted to know what James had to report.

James only shook his head again. "You'll see…"

* * *

But yet, to this day, neither Matt nor I know what James's Halloween prank ever was. That October 31st was a memorable one for me, from seeing teachers dress in Muggle clothing for amusement and of course eating the kinglike evening feast. We retired to the common room at the end of the day, nibbling at the candy that was distributed at the end of dinner. Matt and I sat in overstuffed chairs by the fire, lazily unwrapping our sweets and popping them in like the pigs we were. James and Laura were nowhere to be found, although I caught a glimpse of the latter heading up the stairs to our dormitory beforehand.

It was nearing nine o'clock when Matt and I wondered if James's prank was to be administered yet. Just as we were about to get up and start looking for him, a great boom sounded from up above, followed by a shriek. There was a sound of running feet, and James suddenly appeared at our chairs.

"_No_! Someone ruined it!"

Before we could ask what had happened, more pattering feet were heard and Laura came down the dormitory stairs, eyes wild and petrifying.

"_You_!" A vein in James's neck throbbed dangerously. "What did you do?"

"I – I didn't mean to –"

"_You ruined it_!"

"But-"

"James!" I shot up from my chair. "_What happened_?"

"Laura – she messed around with the prank I had set up in your room! She messed up one of my pranks!"

"Wait – how did you get in our room?" I already knew of the enchantment on the girls' steps that forbidden boys to go up them.

"I didn't," He was calming down now, but still red-faced. "I had Arria fix it up for me."

"Well, it was just a prank –"

"I didn't mean to ruin it!" Laura burst out. "I didn't know what it was and only wanted to know –"

"Don't talk to me." James brushed past her and ascended the stairs to the boys' dormitory.

"Wait, James!" Matt ran after him, a piece of candy still in his hand.

Next to me, Laura was on the verge of tears. Shooting her a sympathetic look, I followed Matt, surprised when I made it up to the first-year boys' room without being held back by any spells.

I found James sitting on his bed, punching his pillow agitatedly. Matt was next to him, trying to get a word out of him that wasn't grunting. Eventually, I was able to make out something.

"_Stupid – stuck-up – prat -!"_

"James!" I had never seen him so worked up over a silly little practical joke. Why was he so upset over this one?

I heard footsteps behind me, turning to find Laura there. Just as I was about to open my mouth in explanation, I saw a tear roll down her cheek, and with a quick turn of the head, she was gone.

* * *

I was infuriated at James for his inexplicable behavior and worried for Laura, who didn't speak to me for the rest of Halloween or the early hours of the following day. On November 1st, being too peeved to approach James, I went to console Laura after a rumor flew that she had been crying in the girls' loo.

I went on a search for the right stall during lunch, finding Laura quickly. Cautiously, I knocked on the stall door. "Laura? Can I talk to you?"

The sniffling noises stopped, but there was no reply.

"Laura? What James said – he didn't mean it; he gets a little odd when people mess up his pranks…"

"I'm fine, Alice. Please just go away."

I didn't want to. Laura was my only chance of a female friend at school and it didn't seem fair to leave her because of something James said. I opened my mouth to protest, but then realized that Laura needed a moment. Hesitantly, I slipped out of the room, taking another stumble on my climb up the mountain once again.

* * *

_A/N: It's a little rushed and not my best work, but I'm just glad I updated. I'll try to put up another chapter soon. Please review if you read it, even if i it's just the least amount of words!_


	17. Forgiveness

Chapter Sixteen: Forgiveness and Home

Things changed radically after James insulted Laura. For several days, I spoke to neither of them, giving both their space to cool off after the Halloween incident. Matt tactfully began spending more time with the other boys in our year, while I reverted to my old ways of going to and from class alone. Dad noticed this change right away and gave me a suspicious look in the first Herbology class after October 31st, but didn't approach me about it.

It was late November when James calmly came up to me and apologized for blowing his top; later I would find out how he was provoked to say sorry after Michael Scamander found out about his inappropriate behavior and confronted him about it. I was surprised when learning that he had successfully convinced him, having heard of the improper ways Michael treated the girls in his own year. But shaking the thought out of my head, I didn't accept James's apology right away.

"You owe Laura more of an apology than you do me," I replied steadfastly, copying the stern tone my father took on when Frankie and Eleanor argued at home. "What you said was like a slap to her face."

James appeared indifferent and left me to continue my History of Magic homework. The next day, I stood behind him as he apologized to Laura at breakfast. She sat red-faced throughout James's entire speech, most likely embarrassed of the attention we were drawing to her. When James finished, he raised an eyebrow at her. "Well? I said I was sorry."

Laura's eyes averted back to her porridge. "Well, thanks, I suppose."

I brushed back James to sit next to her. "Do you want to walk to Charms together?"

Pushing her empty bowl aside, Laura rose from the bench. "No, thanks. I need to do some things in the library before class." And with that, she had grabbed her bag and was quickly walking towards the exit.

James scoffed. "What's her problem?" He sat down across from me and helped himself to some bacon. "I apologized, didn't I?"

I shook my head. "I don't know. Maybe she just wants to be alone?"

But due to this, we learned that Laura didn't forgive and forget easily. She began avoiding us for the rest of the fall term, and it somewhat became like the earlier days of September, when I had no female companion to confide in. The days after James's apology included various times I approached Laura and asked if she was all right. She'd only nod and give me a taut, cool smile. Imagine – timid, sweet Laura with the glare of an ice queen!

James and Matt soon seemed to overlook Laura's absence, for the school's Quidditch season finally started up after a delay due to a widespread case of the flu. The first match of the year was Gryffindor versus Slytherin, all the more reason of their forgetfulness. With no other option than to study for a Potions exam, I halfheartedly trudged up the wooden, creaking stairs of the Quidditch pitch stands with James and Matt. I did enjoy Quidditch, but not when speculators had to sit in near freezing weather.

In other news, Michael was making his debut as one of the Gryffindor Chasers. I couldn't help but cheer madly as a sixth year's thundering voice announced, "…_Scamander_!" as our House team flew out on their brooms. Michael's face appeared proud and smug as he and the team warmed up by flying around the pitch once or twice.

Behind us sat several third year Ravenclaw girls who apparently knew Michael well. "Look at the old prat," one of them drawled. I could sense the tone of repugnance in her voice. "Thinking that he has the world in his hands."

"Don't even bother, Carrie," her friend replied, sounding just as loathing as Carrie. "He loves any kind of attention."

A third girl snorted. "I hope a Bludger knocks him unconscious."

I began to turn my head to glower at them, convinced that they truly didn't know Michael at all. I don't know what feelings were going through my head at the time or why I wanted to defend him. But the whistle sounding the start of the game rang out from the field and I whipped my head back around just in time to see the Chasers dive for the Quaffle.

The match ended two and a half hours later, a surprisingly long game. The Gryffindor Seeker, a fourth year who I'd see fooling around in the common room often, caught the Snitch with his team behind. An entire section of scarlet and gold flags waved enthusiastically as Gryffindor was proclaimed the winner. The team flew a victory lap as dismayed Slytherins left the stands. Some Gryffindors in seats closer to the ground spewed out onto the field, applauding and cheering like crazy.

By the time we had returned to the common room, butterbeer and biscuits were being passed around in celebration. The team arrived still in their Quidditch robes, numerous hands thumping against their backs. I stared unbelievingly at it all, my mouth hanging open. "It's only the first game of the season! Why the big party?"

Matt was already stuffing his mouth with sweets. "Who cares? We won, and we're entitled to some fun, aren't we?"

"Well, yes, but…"

"Lighten up, Alice." Next to me, James rolled his eyes as he observed a plate of chocolates. "This only means we'll have a bigger party if we win the Cup at the end of the year."

"But how many parties do you really need?"

They stared dubiously at me. Getting the hint, I rose from the couch we were all sitting on and headed up the stairs to the girls' dormitory. With what seemed like everyone downstairs, maybe I could have some peace and quiet in the dorm.

But I stepped into the room to find Laura on her bed, scribbling away in a notebook. She glanced up at the sound of my footsteps and calmly closed her book when seeing me. "They have food down there?"

"…Yes."

"I'm going to go get some." And she slipped past me, her notebook tucked underneath her arm.

Falling back onto my own bed, I knew it wasn't me that Laura was angry with. She was angry with what I did, which was leaving her alone after she asked me to. Somehow I assumed that she had lied that day and actually wanted company, but I had been a bad friend and listened to what she said rather than the emotion in her voice. Now, I was afraid that she'd never forgive me.

* * *

Soon, it was December already, and Professor Cole was walking around with a list to collect the names of students staying at school for the holidays. I was flabbergasted when Matt signed the paper with a flourish at dinner one night. "Don't you want to go home for Christmas?"

"Nah," Matt shrugged nonchalantly as he returned the list to Cole, who then continued marching down the length of the Hall. "It's just another time for my sisters to be spoiled. Besides, I don't usually spend Christmas at home anyways."

That was another shocking surprise. I looked at him inquiringly. "What? Where do you spend it then?"

"With my grandparents. They've always kinda favored me, being their only grandson. But now that Vinny's been born…" His voice trailed off, unreadable, at the mention of his seven-month-old brother. "Let's just say that Mum plans to bring the whole gang to my grandparents' this year and I don't really like being with all of them. Too…crowded."

"What's too crowded?" James had just arrived at that moment, plopping down on the bench near us.

"Nothing," Matt murmured, and that was the end of the discussion.

James, however, was returning home for holidays, as was I. Our fathers rarely had enjoyable Christmases during their childhood, therefore both had insisted that we'd come home or else. Unlike previous years, Dad was going home via Portkey, instead of on the Hogwarts Express. "I wouldn't want to embarrass you," he had told me understandably. "I guess it's time to grow up and be a real teacher, eh?"

As far as I knew, all of the Gryffindor first years were going home, sans for Matt and Kyle Norsworthy, whose parents were on a joint business trip in America. After a workload of assignments were handed in to nearly every teacher, the snowy, nippy week came to an end and on that Saturday, more than half of the student body converged in the Entrance Hall with their luggage in tow. Hagrid appeared at the doors dressed in a bulky moleskin coat, snowflakes caught in his eccentric beard.

"Yeh all follow me now!" Hagrid waved his arms above his head and the noisy Hall immediately became silent. "Yeh all can follow me out to the station!"

And so the crowd began to. I was towards the back of the hub, feeling very infinitesimal standing behind about five taller, older boys. They were conversing with each other loudly and still glued to their spot on the floor, ignoring Hagrid's announcement. Shyly, I tried to maneuver around them. "Excuse me…"

"Alice!" Someone called out my name and I rapidly turned around, accidentally hitting one of the older boys with my trunk that I was dragging along.

"Oh, um, sorry!"

"Alice!" There it was again. My eyes scanned the area once again, my mind beginning to fog. "Over here!"

I glanced in the direction of the voice and finally spotted Matt in the doorway of the Great Hall, where the students staying at school were meeting for breakfast. Getting a good hold on the edge of my trunk, I hurried over to him. "Matt! 'Morning!"

"'Morning – you're leaving now?"

"Yup," I glanced sideways back towards the exit to see if Hagrid wasn't too far up the snowy path yet. "Right now…" I added emphasis to hint at the urgency of leaving at the very moment. Remembering our conversation about a week earlier, I spoke again. "Are you going to be…okay?"

He gave me a funny look. "Yeah, of course. I told you, Alice, I don't mind being here for the holidays."

"But your grandparents-"

"They'll understand."

I, however, did not. First of all, I believed no one knew what a crowded atmosphere was until they spent time with the Weasley family. Matt did have a large family, with four other siblings and his sisters' incessant chatter making it seem bigger, as he once claimed. But they were still his family. Everyone should spend Christmas with family, save for certain circumstances.

"Well, all right then…"

Professor Cole was walking by. When seeing my luggage and the rest of the departing group out the door, his brow furrowed. "Miss Longbottom! You ought to be going!"

"Yes, sir!" I turned back to Matt and gave him a tiny smile. "Um…merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas."

"Miss Longbottom!"

"I'm going, Professor!" Without thinking, I leaned forward and gave Matt a quick hug. "See you January 6th!"

I dragged my trunk as fast as I could out the main door. The path had been cleared of any slick ice earlier on, so I was able to catch up to the other students hastily. Towards the end of the uneven line of people was James, his owl Damon hooting in the cage in his hand.

"Hey! Good morning!" I slipped up next to him, shivering a little as my body adjusted to the cold.

"'Morning." He rattled Damon's cage to shut him up, then glanced back at me. "Did you see Matt at all?"

"Just now - you?"

"When I woke up."

"Did he seem a little…distant to you?" I didn't want to bring up what Matt had confided in me before.

"Nope, he seemed fine." And he said nothing more.

* * *

Our train ride home was far more enjoyable to me than my ride to school back in September, for obvious reasons. I now had pleasant things to focus on. Liana, Luna, and the twins would come to stay with us for several days after Christmas, and then the Potters would visit as always on January 1st. And there were always the New Year's Day sales at the Diagon Alley shops, including a huge one at Flourish & Blotts, to my delight.

Only my mum and siblings were at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters to greet me – Dad wouldn't be leaving the school until the next day, December 23rd. Therefore, I was surprised by the amount of attention I received from my mother when finding her on the platform.

"Oh, Allie!" When I approached, she flung her arms around me, pressing me against her breast. "We've missed you so much! Why haven't you written lately? How was the ride?"

"Mum!" I gently but hurriedly slipped out of her grasp. "I'm fine! Gosh!"

"Hi, Allie." I was surprised to find that my little sister, age five, had gained a clearer speech and was much taller than when I had last seen her. "I got a new doll from Daddy the other day – do you want to see it when we get home?"

I thought I had never heard her say so much before. Smiling a little, I hugged her. "Sure, Eleanor, I'd love to."

Frankie, turning nine years old in February, was a bit more closed off than Eleanor, only giving me a diminutive hug and smile. "How was it, Alice?"

He was referring to the entire school experience. I smiled timorously. "It's amazing, Frank. Really amazing."

Frankie nodded calculatingly and I realized then that my brother was becoming like me and wished to leave home and see this magical place his father and sister had already succumbed to. His first year at school would be my fourth; this was a reasonably large age gap, one that often kept us from becoming any closer. But right there on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, I felt a greater connection to him than I had ever had at that point.

As we began the walk back towards the Leaky Cauldron, my heart bubbled up with fervor, for both the promising holidays and after that, my second term of school. But for now, all I had on my mind was my mum's mouthwatering chocolate cake…

* * *

_A/N: Please review!_


	18. Christmas

Chapter Seventeen: Christmas

It was almost like old times when Dad popped into the bar the next day, back from Hogwarts. Although I had seen him just the day before, I acted as excited as I would be even if I hadn't. After a strident but entertaining dinner together in the bar with our customers, my family and I retired to our beds, eager for Christmas Eve the following day.

This was our first family-oriented Christmas since before moving to London. The pub was closed for the week and we spent the holiday in our flat, rather than on a regular day when we'd be walking back and forth between the first floor and our private quarters. Mum had enchanted the Christmas tree that was set up by the bar to levitate on its own up to our living room. Eleanor, in particular, took much glee in the tree, having no strong memory of our artificial but elaborate Christmas tree back in Godric's Hollow.

December 24th consisted of sleeping in late – a privilege I had not experienced in quite some time – and eating Mum's banana pancakes for breakfast. In the early evening, all five of us spilled out into Diagon Alley to join in on the Christmas caroling and joy-filled entertainment. I carried my camera with me as we explored the festivities, snapping pictures of my family and the singing throngs of decorative goblins. Dad bought a miniature bucket of roasted chestnuts for Frankie, Eleanor, and I to share as we walked. As my siblings and I eagerly strolled ahead of Mum and Dad, pointing out lit up shop windows and yet another ornamentally-dressed goblin, our parents lingered behind, holding hands and simply enjoying the other's company.

The employees at Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions had assembled a projector in the store and playing on it was a Muggle Christmas movie. "_It's a Wonderful Life_," one of the workers, dressed in red and green robes, announced as we came inside. "It's a classic American film – my dad's a Muggle and loves it."

I was captivated by the moving picture, immediately reminded of the animated figures in the photographs that developed from my camera. Only the film was just like the Fat Lady's portrait back at school; sound came from the grainy-looking people's mouths. They told a story with both surrounding scenery and the other figures. It was like nothing I had ever seen before.

When noticing my immersion in the film, Mum smiled and let Dad and the others leave for home – it was getting late, and Eleanor was already falling asleep in Dad's arms. Together, my mother and I joined several others on the cushioned rug of the shop, watching the rest of _It's a Wonderful Life_. The movie would be one of the few I'd ever see, but to this day is still my favorite. It's a love story, a drama, a tale that tells about time, family, and how everyone makes a difference. Of course, I was too young at the time to know this, but after more viewings in the following years, the message caught on.

It was past midnight when the film finally ended. I turned away from the screen to find Mum stretched out on the floor in a light sleep. My cheeks slightly flushing, I shook her awake as the other viewers began to stand up to stretch and leave.

"Oh! I'm sorry, Allie…" Mum scrambled to her feet after feeling my touch. "I've just been so busy lately and didn't get much sleep last night…" Dark circles were evident underneath her eyes and she was blinking rapidly to stay awake. "Well, then, shall we head on home?"

Glancing away from her face, I nodded, her wan image quickly fading in my mind.

* * *

Christmas Day that year was just what Christmases should always be. We were woken up at half past seven by an impatient Eleanor and fell victims to her pleas that we begin opening presents right then. After converging by the tree and doing just so, Mum disappeared into the kitchen and emerged with a tray filled with mugs of hot chocolate. After drinking merrily and wearing the new life out of our presents, Frankie, Eleanor, and I set forth to help our parents cook breakfast, as a thank you for the gifts.

The following hours after breakfast were wonderfully lazy; we explored our other gifts and simply spent time with each other, which during that year was a rarity. Around noon, Dad and Frankie went into Diagon Alley together to purchase a ham for our dinner. Eleanor and I then helped Mum prepare the dessert, a glorious bread pudding. We finally tucked into a late supper around eight o'clock, eating the pudding right after we finished.

The following day brought forth the arrival of Liana, Luna, and her twins – Mr. Lovegood, Rolf, and Michael had all gone away on an expedition together. Lorcan and Lysander were now nearly nine months old and had mastered the art of crawling since I last saw them. I couldn't help but smile when Luna proudly watched her boys creep along the floor and announced whimsically, "They began crawling at the same time, you know. I never thought they would."

Liana appeared somewhat differently than when I said good-bye to her in September. Her hair was more polished than its usual flyaway state, and there was a certain shimmer to her cheekbones. She wore ordinary jeans and a sweater, but along with her luggage she had brought along a silk cloak that was part of the Beauxbatons uniform.

"It's _real _silk, Alice." She held out the cape for me to touch and I doubtfully brushed my fingers against it.

"Um…it's nice."

"You ought to see my roommate Jillian in hers," Liana stated tersely. "She looks like a real supermodel."

Wickedly, I wonder if this Jillian had replaced me as Liana's best friend. All I had heard about since her arrival were Beauxbatons and her new, sophisticated French friends.

But I soon found her spirit and personality to be unchanged. When we went into my bedroom to talk some more, she eagerly went into a conversation about Arthur and Molly Weasley's teeming gnome garden and how Rolf was set on finding Nargles on the expedition he was on. Immediately, my shoulders relaxed and I began smiling more naturally. The same old Liana was still here.

I spent the following several days reconnecting with her, and together we played with the twins and entertained them. Lorcan, of course, didn't recognize me from his earlier months of life, while his brother Lysander still seemed to tense up around me. Ultimately, Lorcan became accustomed to my presence and I found myself loving him as much as I had before.

On December 29th, with Lorcan and Lysander dozing off on the blanket next to us, Liana and I were sprawled out on the floor. I was to tell her all that had happened so far at Hogwarts. When I told her about seeing Michael in his first Quidditch game, she made a great show of rolling her eyes.

"Oh, _that_." She seemed bored with the topic of her brother, yet continued on. "You should have heard him on Christmas, Alice – all he could talk about was that stupid match. Why, I bet he didn't even do much in it, right?"

She was actually correct, but inside, I didn't feel like granting her the glee of being right. I only shrugged artlessly. "Honestly, I don't remember."

Liana smirked, rolling onto her stomach. "I bet all he did was fly around the pitch, thinking that he was so cool…"

This dry, sardonic humor of Liana's was new to me. However, I unexpectedly found her even more congenial this way. We all had to leave behind our naiveté of childhood behind one day, and for Liana, that time arrived for her before it did for me.

James and his family came over on January 1st, 2017. Liana and I had been permitted to stay up till midnight the evening before, and we spent the entire day blinking back winks of sleep. By the time my parents and James's went down to the bar for lunch, with our younger siblings playing together throughout the building, Liana had returned to my bedroom for a nap. Luna sat in the living room entertaining her babies. Having nothing better to do, I joined Luna on the sofa, Lorcan and Lysander resting nearby in their travel cots.

"They're so big, Luna," I stated to her with the manner of an affectionate big sister. "They're almost a year old already."

Luna nodded with a proud mother's glow. "Babies do grow quickly, Alice. I remember when you were born. You were nearly a young lady by the time you were five months old!"

Eventually, Luna asked me to look over the boys when she went downstairs for a bite to eat. She palpably was intending to only be away for a short time, because no babies at any age should be left alone with an eleven-year-old girl. But I relished in this time with Lorcan and Lysander, squeezing their delicate fingers tenderly as they drifted in and out of slumber.

James then appeared from behind me. Upon hearing his footsteps, I jumped, not knowing that he had been in the apartment at all. "Oh, hi. I didn't know anyone else besides Liana was up here."

"I was just getting the broomstick Dad gave me for Christmas." He held up the long item that was clutched in his hands. "Frankie wanted to see it."

I observed the broom, which shone with the glow of new, incandescent cherry wood. The bristles were impeccably even and a light, attractive yellow color. "It's beautiful!"

"I know." James almost seemed smug when looking down at his new plaything. "It's a Nimbus 3000, actually. It's only been for sale for three months."

"Cool." I turned my attention back to the twins. "Can you believe how old these two are already? I still remember when they were born."

James wrinkled his nose at me. "Alice, you're the one who sounds old now. You're acting like they're your own kids."

"I think it'd be lovely to have kids, James Potter," I shot back at him humorously. "You don't think so?"

He seemed to be mulling over his answer, then finally replied, "Yeah, I guess so. Maybe it's nice…but do you really want to know what it's like now?"

"_No_!" I tossed a sofa cushion at him. "Of course not!"

James only laughed, dodging the pillow as it soared through the air. Twirling his broom in his hand, he headed out the door, and I was left with the Scamander twins once again.

* * *

Luna and the Scamanders left for home on January 3rd, and Dad Apparated back to Hogwarts the subsequent day. I would return to school on the sixth of January, but had repacked my trunk by the second. I was truly impatient and keyed up to go back to Hogwarts, knowing that I'd see Matt again, and would have another chance to try and resolve conflicts with Laura. On the Hogwarts Express ride back to school, James and I sat with Fred Weasley and Arria Jordan, sharing with each other our Christmas experiences.

James and Fred had spent December 25th with their grandparents and extended family at the Burrow, as usual. Upon hearing their evocative tales of the day, I was almost covetous, comparing my unpretentious holiday to theirs. But Arria then shared her story of a simple Christmas spent only with her parents and little sister – I immediately felt more comfortable with my occurrence, but was still a tad green-eyed.

We all quickly got back into the swing of things when term started up again. Matt spoke nothing of his holidays taking place at school, although I stayed intent on the reason of him staying at school, while Laura continued to avoid us, seeming perfectly satisfied with her new solitude.

January passed by swiftly with no plight. I became a regular in the overstuffed armchair by the fireplace in the common room – anywhere else in the castle was promised to be drafty and cold. That chair was a major condolence on chilly winter nights when I was in no mood to do homework or socialize.

The weather was so dreadfully frigid towards the end of the month that Herbology classes had to be administered in an unused classroom on the first floor. Every day, Dad had to lug the plants he'd need for a class through the snowy outdoors and into the castle – many times, he would have to take second trips back to the greenhouses. James, Matt, and I happened to be walking to breakfast together one morning when he came out of his provisional classroom and asked us if we would help him bring some plants from the greenhouse over to the school. With him being my father, we couldn't decline. Instead of warming ourselves with hot pumpkin juice and delectable pancakes in the Great Hall, we were traipsing through the snow that morning, dragging along with us pots of puffapods and dragon dung compost.

The cold became tenuous at the start of February; it was without a doubt not as bad as the weather of the previous month. Along with the warmer weather, the teachers seemed to become more lenient, assigning less work and granting us more free time in class to complete any other obligations. For a diminutive period, it seemed that things were becoming better than ever. But out of the blue, the worst happening possible occurred…

* * *

_A/N: Please review!_


	19. Catastrophe

Chapter Eighteen: Catastrophe 

"That is _so_ an allowed move!"

"I _told_ you, it's the same as wizard's chess, that move isn't right!"

"But-"

"Alice, I told you a million times…"

"Life is so entertaining with you lot." That was Matt, a cynical smirk on his face as he watched James and me bicker about the chess board in front of us.

I ignored him, scrutinizing the board once again. "Are you _sure_ that-"

James slapped my hand away from my row of pawns. "It was wrong. Now I get two turns in a row."

"_What_?"

We were in the common room on the night of February 16th, 2017. James and I were breaking in the dusty set of Muggle chess his prehistoric aunt Muriel sent him for Christmas. Compared to me, he was far more familiarized with the game of chess in general. Unfortunately, he seemed to be using this advantage over me.

"Alice, do you need to be told the rules of chess again?" James asked brazenly.

"No," I replied curtly. "Maybe Matt can play for awhile instead."

"Sore loser, are we?" Matt grinned as I rose from my chair for him to sit down opposite James. "There, there, I'll kill some knights for you."

I watched, somewhat surly, as the boys were immediately drawn into a heated game involving little conversation. Although it at first appeared too close to call, James ultimately emerged victorious. Matt began insisting that his opponent cheated, but his monologue became distant to me as my thoughts soaked in the obstreperous setting.

The common room was always loud, but that night it seemed much more crowded and earsplitting. The fifth and seventh years' exams were fast approaching, and they often staked out corners of the perimeter where they'd sit for hours, just studying. I didn't understand why they'd choose the common room for their cramming, what with such irritating distractions present.

"…Fair and square, Matt, I _did_ win!"

"You made a false move with one of your rooks, I saw you-"

I rolled my eyes at their silly banter; however, I stayed put, in case they needed a peacemaker anytime soon.

Suddenly, the other students' roars ceased, and I could hear the Fat Lady's portrait swinging open. I turned my head just in time to catch Professor Cole wringing his hands ad infinitum, walking towards our direction.

"Alice Longbottom?" The sound of my name was startling. My heartbeat vaguely increasing, I glanced up at Cole.

"Y-yes?"

"Come with me, Miss Longbottom. Your father wishes to meet with you."

My ears flushed red as people around me giggled softly. I wondered what could be worse – Cole telling me of my father's request, or Dad actually coming to the common room to get me himself. "Meet about what, Professor?"

"You'd best just come along, Longbottom – quickly now." Cole didn't bother elaborating any further.

I followed him out through the portrait hole; he led me to Dad's sleeping quarters on the fifth floor. "Go right in, Longbottom," he told me when we had reached the door, "he's waiting for you."

Cole turned and slithered away, and I was left to open the door tentatively. "Dad?"

It was the first time I was in his room at school, and I was surprised at the small space that only contained a bed and writing desk. Another door was open as well, leading to a tub and sink, but like the first room, it was tiny and cramped.

"Alice." Dad was sitting on his bed and it took me several seconds to notice his distressed expression. He patted the spot on the bed next to him, and I plopped down. Once again, he opened his mouth.

"Allie…there's some trouble back at home." He let this flow out swiftly and didn't even hesitate in continuing. "Your mother has wizards' pneumonia, Allie. She was checked into St. Mungo's this morning."

The words hit me like a ton of bricks. I felt my jaw drop open and my heart plunge downwards. I suddenly remembered Mum's weary eyes on Christmas Eve and how I simply waved away the image. Now, she was ill, and with a disease far more deadly and grim than its Muggle equivalent – it had nearly no cure.

Dad was holding my hand now, just waiting for me to respond. When I didn't, he spoke gently, "Frankie and Eleanor are at Luna's. They're going to stay there until…things are better."

A lump was growing rapidly in my throat and I could feel my eyes watering. I quickly blinked away my tears and glanced up at Dad. "…How is she?"

Dad looked away then. I remembered assuming that he was near tears as well; rather than seeing my usually joyful father cry, I buried my face in his arm instead. His voice sounding muffled, Dad said, "Quite weak, actually. It came upon her out of nowhere."

I wondered if he had observed Mum's feeble appearance over Christmas – I guessed that he hadn't, with him saying that Mum got sick out of the blue. I felt guilty of not saying anything to Dad during holidays. I genuinely thought that the blame should have been bestowed upon me, for my choice to say nothing.

"I'll be going tomorrow to stay with her." Dad's voice was still shaking, but the quiver wasn't that noticeable. "A substitute's going to teach for me…I don't know how long I'll be away though. Will you be all right?"

If I were any older, I probably would have found a way to control my emotions. But at eleven years old, I was far too vulnerable, my tears now streaming down my face. Dad only wrapped his arm around me, letting me stain the front of his robes with my waterworks.

"Allie?"

I mustered up my remaining strength and lifted my head, quickly wiping away my tears. "I…I'll be okay, I think."

"You can always be excused from school to visit her."

"No." I wanted to be tough, for Dad and Mum – especially Mum, _definitely_ Mum. Now wasn't the time to be a bratty little girl, like I had acted around Mum in the past. "I'll stay here. I – I'll be fine."

Dad seemed suspicious of my decision, but said nothing and hugged me one last time before walking me back to the common room. There, most of my Housemates had gone to bed, including James and Matt. I was surprised at this, assuming that they'd wait for me, but let it go immediately. Falling back onto my favorite chair by the fire, I sat in silence, staring into the flames aimlessly.

When I look back on that night now, I realize how I had taken my mother for granted before knowing of her illness and the possibility of her dying. I completely favored Dad in my childhood and it was wrong of me to do, for Mum having given up so much for her children. I then found that I loved her more than I always assumed – and that I was worried sick about her.

"Alice?"

I turned around to find Laura at a table in the far corner, peering up from behind a textbook. Even in our first year, when our assigned workload was minimal compared to the older students' amount of homework, she never stopped reviewing new chapters and checking over completed work.

"Um…hi, Laura."

"Is everything all right?" She seemed unsure of herself, not knowing if she should bring me into conversation.

"Actually, no." My voice wavered, and I did nothing to hide it. "I just found out that my mum's in the hospital."

"Oh, no…" Laura appeared authentically concerned. "I'm really sorry."

"Thanks," I said as I gazed back at the fire. "My dad's leaving tomorrow – to look after her."

Behind me, I could sense Laura pondering on how to reply. Eventually, she said, "I really am sorry, Alice. I hope your mum will be okay."

I rose from the chair to face her and smile. "Thank you." While feeling the slightest bit of comfort, I began heading up the stairs to the dorm, my heart beating wildly.

* * *

I was inserted into a bubble of some sort after Dad left the next morning, because his absence brutally reminded me that Mum was sick. To make things worse, Herbology became more of a difficult task as well, the subject now being taught by a woman who was faceless to me – to this day I still can't recall her name.

The teachers all knew of what was happening in my personal life. Professor Bufflee, a prominently rigid, apathetic woman, took time at the beginning of each Charms class to approach me and ask in a low voice if I needed to be excused for a moment. During the first week of Dad's absence, I unexpectedly took advantage of her offer, finding myself suddenly near the verge of tears. I'd go the girls' room to let out a long cry, then would wash my face, and return to class with a demure posture.

Professors Cole and Madden understood my emotions as well. When I was older, I would discover their close friendships with my father – comradeships I'd never truly understand. It was odd enough to see them at the Leaky Cauldron visiting my parents when I was in my twenties, being well out of school. It was somewhat stranger to have them act so fatherly to me during the time of Mum's sickness.

Even Professor McGonagall comforted me by messaging me with news about my parents that she received from Dad, who had little free time to write me and who also was probably still emotionally unstable to personally tell me of my mother's deteriorating health.

The only teacher that seemed unfazed by the news was Zabini. He treated me as sourly as he had during our first Potions class. Now, I didn't expect any teacher to bow at my feet when Mum was sick; nor did I want _that_ much attention. But Professor Zabini's indifferent attitude just made me wonder even more if he was truly heartless.

Some of my classmates began acting like I was a fragile porcelain doll, ready to shatter into a million pieces at any time. James and Matt, however, proceeded with caution to act their normal selves, which I surprisingly found more reassuring than people being so quiet around me.

Matt in particular was quite consoling; his three sisters had unconsciously taught him enough about girls for him to know exactly what to say in their time of need. Usually, my weakest point would be at nightfall, when the darkness outside caused me to be so overwrought and unknowing that I was a puddle of unrestrained nerves. He knew when to crack a joke and when to say nothing – this was the time I began to truly value him as one of my best friends.

James tried his best, but sometimes, mysteriously enough, his flippant attitude stung me when I least expected it. I did appreciate his normalcy, really, but something about his ways were less natural than Matt's, and were harder to believe. I'd smile and pretend to be fine when he'd murmur incessantly over his Potions homework, but inside, every fiber of my strength was weakening second by second.

It was in early March when I decided on impulse to sit down and write a letter to my siblings, who had then spent nearly a month living with Luna and Rolf. I believed that my parents would have wanted me to do so, and Frankie and Eleanor had personally received close to no letters from me since I began school.

_Dear Frankie and Eleanor,_

_I'm really jealous of you lot now. You're living with Luna and Rolf – lucky ducks! Tell them I say hello, and Ellie, give each of the twins a kiss from me – even_ if_ Lysander doesn't like me!_

_School's fine, I guess. We just learned how to levitate things in Charms. I wish I could show you next time I see you, but I'm not allowed to do magic outside of school. But levitating feathers is much more exciting than crushing herbs in Potions class._

_There are Quidditch games nearly every weekend here – some people I know go to every match, but I only go to the ones Gryffindor plays. It can get pretty dull, Quidditch. I bet you think I'm wrong, Frankie! But it's always exciting watching the Gryffindor team play. Michael's a Chaser on it. He's actually rather good._

_Soon it'll be Easter and I can see you two again. We'll all be together again…all of us._

_James wants to trade some Chocolate Frog cards with me – I've got to go! See you soon!_

_Love,_

_Allie_

I wrote the letter as informal and open as I could. I knew there were barriers between my siblings and me, and because of what was happening, I wanted to try and break these walls for the better.

James came with me as I walked to the Owlery to send my enveloped and addressed letter. After I told him of my reason behind the impromptu letter, his reaction was different than what I expected.

"You're making such a big deal of this, Alice. Don't you think that you'd feel better if you just took your mind off it in general?"

Maybe I was maturing like Liana had, or maybe he was just being daft. Either way, I stuck true to my mind. "You know how I don't get along with my mum. I just thought that…she'd be happy if I did this."

James shrugged as we pushed open the heavy oaken doors of the Owlery. "Suit yourself. But don't come crying to me when you pass out in Transfiguration again."

I stopped dead in my tracks and whirled my head around to face him. My eyes narrowing, I protested, "That first time was the day after my dad left! I felt worse than I do now!"

The tips of his ears were slightly red as he glanced away. "Sorry, sorry. That was stupid to say."

I bit my lip before whistling to grasp the attention of one of the school-owned owls. "It's all right, I guess…you didn't mean it."

But that was our friendship in a nutshell, and it had always been that way, similar to a brotherly and sisterly banter. He teased me, I teased him. We fought, we made up. We joked, we laughed. When we were little, we even wrestled, much to the chagrin of our mothers.

After attaching my note to a scrawny barn owl's ankle with some string, we watched as the creature took flight, disappearing into the distant sunset outside. It was nearly dinnertime; by the time we made it back to the first floor, the meal would most likely already be fifteen minutes through. As soon as my messenger became a faraway spot of grey in the sky, James and I dashed out of the room, ready to run down the multitude amount of stairs that led to the Great Hall.

We had just stepped off one of the changing staircases and were waiting for another to connect to our floor when Michael Scamander hopped off a different set of stairs to land right next to us. For once, he was completely alone – it was very rare that he wasn't followed by his roommates or female admirers – that is, the girls who were totally oblivious to his scathing ways.

"Hello, Mike," James called out cheerfully. He wasn't as close to him as he had been during the time of Luna's wedding, but could still have a pleasant conversation with Michael. "Late for dinner, too, huh?"

"Bufflee had me in detention," Michael reported, rolling his eyes just like Liana did. This talent must have been hereditary in the Scamander family. "And for the most harmless thing, too."

"What did you do?" My voice was faltering – I wasn't sure if I should have been asking at all.

"I killed the rat I was supposed to make dance."

"_What_?" That was James and I in perfect unison, because only one spell came to our minds, and simultaneously.

"Don't get your knickers in a knot – it wasn't _that_." He smirked, his noise crinkling appealingly. A zing shot through my body and I ignored it. "I just overworked it, is all. But good old Bufflee knows me well enough…"

"It was on purpose?" My eyes were nearly bulging out of their sockets. I couldn't imagine _anyone_ being cheeky to Professor Bufflee.

"It was for fun," Michael corrected me. He shrugged offhandedly. "No biggie." He held his arm out to the side of the platform. "Our chariot awaits."

Sure enough, another set of stairs had appeared. The three of us stepped onto it, the set transporting us to the first floor. James was off first, scampering towards the smell of food coming from the Great Hall.

I felt a tad uncomfortable being alone with Michael then. I quickened my step to walk ahead of him and was surprised when I felt him tap on my shoulder.

I turned. "What?"

"Look, Alice, I heard about your mum-"

"Who hasn't?" I snipped sarcastically. I wasn't the least bit thrilled that my family's special business was so public.

"But I just wanted to let you know that I understand."

"Wh-what?" I found his voice to be solemn and true, and not derisive or crude at all.

"My uncle – Mum's brother – had it too." Michael's eyes were calm and steady. "He died when I was little, but I still remember him a bit. I remember being upset…well, not as much as you, but…" The joking tone had returned now.

"Oh…" I hadn't expected this from anyone, let alone Michael. But someone actually could relate with my pain, my worry! "Well…thanks. Thanks a lot, Michael."

"No problem." He nodded and slipped past me, heading towards the Great Hall. At the doorway to the Hall, I could spot him joining a group of about five other third-years and entering the antechamber with them. The conversation already replaying in my head, I entered the Hall as well.

James and Matt were sitting at the end of the Gryffindor table that was closest to the doors. I joined them and James immediately looked up from his plate to glance at me. "What did Michael say? I saw him talking to you."

I only shook my head. "It was nothing."

* * *

I was rapturous when I received a letter addressed in Frankie's hand several days after I sent my message. Eagerly tearing open the envelope, my eyes fervently scanned the paragraphs.

_Dear Allie,_

_Eleanor loves living here because Luna lets her help take care of Lorcan and Lysander. I think it's all right, but I'm sick of Mr. Lovegood's food. But yesterday we got to have lunch at the Burrow, so I'm fine now._

_Are you _sure _you can't do magic at home? I'd _really _like to see your levitated feathers. What about potions? Can you make potions at home? Maybe you can help me make something to get rid of the gnomes in Mrs. Weasley's garden – she hates those things._

_I wish I could see one of the Gryffindor Quidditch games. Michael is really good at Quidditch; I've played with him before. Do you'll think you'll try out for Quidditch next year, Alice? I bet you could get on the team – then when I come to school I'll try out and we can be on the team together. I think I'd want to be a Beater – they get to carry sticks!_

_Eleanor wants to write something now. Bye!_

And then, in even sloppier handwriting, was my sister's message.

_Hi Alice! Luna says that my letters are getting better, so I'm writing this all by myself. Mummy likes the letters I send her too – she says that my words are written real neat._

_I really miss you. I can't wait until you come home – then we get to see Mummy and Daddy again. I love you. Bye._

A startling feeling of wistfulness set in as I finished reading. I found myself missing Frankie and Eleanor, and longed for my parents even more. There were a number of weeks left until Easter vacation, but all I wanted was for the rest of term to pass by quickly so I could see my family again.

* * *

April 2nd was the day it happened. At breakfast, an unfamiliar owl delivered to me a folded up paper. Opening it up, I realized that it was dated two days ago. I began to read.

_Mum's going through the worst of it. Healers don't know what'll happen._

_Stay strong. We love you._

It was unsigned, but I knew it was from Dad. My heartbeat began increasing, quickening like never before. My stomach began knotting up, giving me a terrible feeling in my throat. I could feel sweat dripping from my armpits. This had to be the end. Mum would die and things would just become topsy-turvy afterwards…oh, Merlin…how could they not know what was going to happen? Wasn't it their _job_ to know?

My legs shaking, I rose from the bench, Dad's note crumpled in my hand. I had no idea what I was doing, but I started walking towards the door, looking straight ahead. I felt like I could vomit right there. The little breakfast I had eaten seemed to be sloshing around violently in my stomach. _Breathe in, breathe out…_

I took one more step before falling to my knees. And then, everything went black.

* * *

_A/N: I'm proud of this chapter, because of its length and the storyline. What did you think? Please review!_


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